


The Training

by Lulu3



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance, amity, dauntless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 63
Words: 537,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulu3/pseuds/Lulu3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everly finds herself the lone female initiate during the Dauntless training. Crushed that she's being singled out, she's sent to train separately with one of Dauntless' least friendly leaders. Will she be able to make it through his training class? Or will she wind up factionless?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Be Brave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> As of December 2015, these chapters are in the process of being revised by the wonderful BK2U.
> 
> Just a few things:
> 
> -Eric and Four are both 24 in this story.
> 
> -Tris and Christina are both 20.
> 
> -Initiates chose at the age of 18.
> 
> \- A/U in regards to the war- There are vague mentions throughout the story
> 
> -Movie!Eric because Jai Courtney
> 
> -Thank you so much to my brilliant beta BK2U for cleaning this up ;)

I am the only girl initiate.

I glance around the room quickly; all of the others around me are male and much bigger. I can feel a slight sense of panic well up in me and I try to swallow it down. I chose Dauntless, the least I can do is act like it. It shouldn't bother me that I'm the only female here, but I can't stop the tiny nagging feeling that gnaws at me.

I'm not stupid. I know how initiation works. I also know that having a few other females would have given me a slightly better chance at becoming a member. The guys that surround me are all my age, but they have the advantage of height and weight. A few of them look like they've been bred for this despite coming from outside factions. The one next to me, tall and dressed in dark blue Erudite clothing, alternates between throwing dirty glances at my light pink dress and nervously looking around as we wait for the last of us to gather around.

I shift beside him, and try not to twist my fingers together.

The boy next to me finally turns and impales me with a long, hard stare. "You really think you're gonna make it here? Against all of us?" His eyes narrow triumphantly, as though the almost all-male presence is some sort of accomplishment, and he throws his shoulders back haughtily. "You should have stayed on the farm."

My hands ball into fists at my sides.

I could have, sure. I don't hate Amity, not even the least bit. It's just that for the past few years, all I could do was try hard to smother the suffocating urge to get out of it. I didn't really fit in there; I wasn't filled with a desire to farm crops or sing songs around a campfire all summer long. I longed for something more adventurous, dangerous even. I just didn't think it would happen quite so quickly.

"No, thanks," I answer sweetly, and shift my eyes forward. The man that instructed us to jump, the one with dark brown hair and a scruffy face, makes his way towards us now that everyone has finally jumped. He's quiet as he walks over, and waits until everyone stops talking.

"Welcome, initiates. My name's Four, and I will be in charge of your training for the duration of your initiation. Dauntless-born will be trained separately, but you will be ranked together. You will head out with Lauren as soon as we are done here. The rest of you are stuck with me." He gives us a half-smile, and there's the tiniest bit of niceness under his words. His smile falters when his eyes land on me.

"I will explain the rules of training while we take a quick tour of Dauntless, then we'll get you settled in. This will be your chance to make sure you understand how everything works." His voice is firm, and he motions for us to follow after him.

Everyone is nervously quiet as we obediently make our way through the compound.

The hallways are dark and cold, and I pull my arms close towards me as the chill sets in. One of the initiates, dressed in a dark black jacket and white shirt, watches me. I can almost feel him writing me off as we make our way down further into the compound.

When Four shows us where we will be staying, I can't help that my heart sinks. The room is filled with rows of bunk beds. While dormitory sleeping is nothing new to me, sleeping in a room with fifteen men who are vying for a spot in Dauntless definitely is. A few of the guys turn and leer at me, and I try to ignore them. In theory, this will be no different than sharing a sleeping room with my fellow Amity.

"I'll leave you to change and get ready. Dinner's in half an hour. Tomorrow your training starts at eight am sharp. Don't be late. The rest of the night is yours, but use it wisely." Four emphasizes the last word before his eyes fall on me.

"Everly, a quick word, please?" He motions towards the hallway, and I nod as I head out after him. I try to ignore the snickers and rare sympathetic glances that are aimed at me. When the door shuts behind us, I turn to Four and try to calm my nerves.

"Everything ok?" I ask him. He shakes his head slightly, and his eyes meet mine.

"I'm not…I'm not sure what to do with you. We've never had just one female initiate before." He hesitates for a moment. "I'm not exactly sure it's the safest option to let you stay here."

My heart officially falls to my stomach as I protest. "I can do it. I got Dauntless on my aptitude test!"

Four smiles, and this time it's sincere. "I don't doubt that you did. Not many Amity transfer here without a reason. It's just…I'm responsible for every initiate that comes through here. And I'd rather not lose one in the first few days just because the others think you're an easy target."

My nerves burn at his words. "I'm not an easy target."

Four appears to be somewhat amused, and he lets out a small laugh. "You may not be. But I'm gonna bring this up to Max. I think it would be best if you trained separately."

I don't really know what to say, so I nod at him. I don't really want to train separately, but it's pretty much out of my hands at this point.

"Come with me. We'll see what he thinks before you settle in for the night."

 

Max's office is large and intimidating. Also incredibly messy.

He watches me with entertained eyes, and I am starting to regret choosing the pink sundress to wear today. He and Four talk quietly, and I only pick up bits and pieces. I'm too nervous to pay attention, even though I know I should.

"…could train her. Keep her separate from both groups. It would be the only fair thing to do." Max finishes up, leaning back in his chair.

Four looks slightly displeased now. His eyebrows knit inward, and his mouth turns down. "You think that's the best solution? I was thinking maybe Lauren could help her…"

Max waves his hand and Four quiets down.

"It needs to be impartial."

"Eric is hardly impartial," Four retorts quietly. I watch as he paces back and forth for a minute. "Having her train with Eric might be worse than leaving her to possibly be murdered in her sleep."

I can feel Max's eyes on me, so I try to smile, but I have no idea what they are talking about.

"How do you feel about that, Everly?" he asks.

I shrug my shoulders at him. "Is it…uh fair…if I'm trained alone? Wouldn't that be unfair? To have my own trainer?" Confusion swirls through my mind; on the one hand, having someone help me individually might give me a better chance at staying. On the other hand, it gives everyone in the class even more reason to think I'm weak, or to think I've received some sort of special treatment.

"Eric is hardly fair." Four's voice is flat, and I get the impression that this is not the way he planned for this talk to go.

Max shakes his head. "He'll be fair. In fact, he'd probably really enjoy helping you out again." He looks at Four before smiling at me. "She might wind up better than some of the initiates in your class."

Four lets out a sigh before he throws his hands up in the air, palms facing Max. "Whatever you think. However, if she turns up dead from exhaustion in a few days, this is all on you."

Max gives Four a look before finding my stare. "I'll make sure she stays alive. In fact, I'll take her to Eric myself."

I don't answer, I simply stand and try to smooth out my dress. I feel out of place in this office; its dark corners and piles of folders strewn around are jarring to me. Johanna's office was always very clean and organized. For a moment I find myself wishing for the comfort of home, but I press the feeling back down inside.

Four finally nods at me, a look of remorse in his eyes.

"Good luck, Everly."

 

Max leads me out of his office and up into a control room. It's huge, rows of monitors and screens blinking back at me. Most of the Dauntless inside work quietly, but a few are chatting here and there. They pay almost no attention to me except to stare in confusion as I follow after Max.

When we reach the end of the room, there are two men standing and talking. We stop a few feet away from them when a man with dark hair stops us. His hair is short on the sides and pulled into a bun on the top of his head.

"Max. Good to see you here. Any news today?" He has a bright smile, and he grins at me. I smile back at him, and wonder if this is Eric.

"Not today." The two men chat idly, and I stand there, still feeling incredibly out of place. I watch the monitors, and it takes a second before I realize I'm watching a live feed of the compound. I watch as tiny dark clad members make their way down corridors and through walkways. One screen changes to the outside of a train tunnel, and I jerk my head back when Max and this other man start laughing. They are interrupted when the other two men join them. One of them gives me a friendly smile, and I impulsively want to hug him. His red hair reminds me of my friend, Jake. The other stares at me with the coldest of looks; his hair is closely cropped on the sides and slicked back on the top. His eyes look me up and down before stopping to stare at my dress with intense disgust.

"Just who I was looking for." Max smiles in their direction, and I turn my head back to the group. "Eric, I've got a new task for you."

"Does it involve this one here?" The red-haired man is grinning at me now, and I suddenly feel a little less nervous. He doesn't seem so bad.

Max nods. "She's the only female initiate in this year's class. For her own safety, she's to be trained separately. Four is worried that she won't have a fair shot at staying alive with her class."

The man with the cold glare narrows his eyes. He looks me up and down again before turning to Max in indignation. "And you want me to train her?" His words drip with disdain, and I can feel my cheeks start to warm up.

Crap.

I realize my friend with the red hair is not Eric, but the man with the short blonde hair is. He takes a step closer to me, his posture straight and rigid. The piercings above his eyebrow glint under the lights. I stare back up at him, trying to make myself smile at him.

He smirks.

"You have some free time. Thought you might be interested," Max offers up.

Eric's eyes flash at me again, and this time there is a hint of malice behind them.

"I'm not," Eric answers in a bored voice. "Besides, she wouldn't last in any training class, let alone mine." His lips curl upward, almost as if he finds the whole situation amusing. A flash of annoyance bursts through me and I find myself scowling. Eric notices immediately, and the amused look drops off his face and is replaced with pure and utter loathing.

Max shifts beside him, and I can tell he's becoming impatient. "This really isn't a request, Eric. Think of it this way, you get the chance to show Four who's the better trainer. You take this one here and make her Dauntless, well, then, there's really nothing you can't do."

Something behind Eric's eyes changes. I can tell he's processing Max's words, some sort of unofficial challenge in the air.

"Fine. But I train her my way. No questions asked." Eric's voice is low, but there's the tiniest bit of delight behind it. I suddenly realize why Four said he didn't think this was a good idea.

"You keep her alive, Eric. Understood?" Max's voice is firm, and his eyes meet mine. "I think she'll do just fine."

I nod at him, more determined than ever. "Thank you."

Eric stares at me for a long second before turning on his heel and stalking away.

Max hands me a key, and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You'll be staying in an apartment close to Eric's. Keep quiet about it, we don't normally allow initiates to stay there." Max says goodbye, and it takes everything I have to not ask to go with him. My nerves have set in, and they are making me jittery. I try to remind myself that I chose this, that this is what I wanted. It may not be happening the way I thought it would, but it's happening.

Eric returns a few seconds after Max leaves, and he stares at me as though he's never seen anyone so atrocious before him.

"Did Four show you where you are staying?" His tone is still bored, and his grey eyes hold mine. I get the feeling he's never the one to look away first.

"He said I couldn't stay with them. That it wasn't safe. But Max gave me a key to an apartment near yours." I offer up the key, and I swear Eric rolls his eyes.

"Great," he sneers. "Let's go. We start training at five am."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "I thought training started at eight?"

His eyes are still on mine, but his expression changes to utter exasperation. "You aren't training with them. You're training with me." He says his words very slowly, as though I am too stupid to comprehend what he's saying. He suddenly shifts his posture, and I watch his cold eyes narrow at me.

"Don't worry." His face suddenly breaks into a smile that sends a small chill up my spine. "It'll be fun."

The key doesn't unlock the door it's assigned to, and Eric sighs in irritation.

"You sure this is the key Max gave you?" He tries it again before giving up and angrily throwing the key against the door.

"Yes." I watch him, trying to take a step back from him without appearing completely afraid of him. He's definitely intimidating, and more annoying is that he knows it. "Should I go get him?"

Eric gives me a dirty look. "No. You aren't going to go run to Max. You can stay with me. It'll be easier anyway," he snarls at me, and starts walking a few doors down. "Are you coming, or are you sleeping in the hallway?"

I follow after him silently.

I am terrified.

Utterly terrified.

He wants me to follow him to wherever he lives, and there is a small part of me that knows it would be safer to sleep in the room with the other initiates. I'd probably have a better chance of survival with them.

He stops about five doors down and throws the door open. Eric steps through without looking back, and I follow him in.

Be brave, I tell myself.


	2. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with this formatting and editing. These chapters will all be updated and replaced as they are edited :)

Eric's apartment is dimly lit and very clean.

There is almost no clutter and no color. Everything is dark and black, and the air is downright freezing. The space is nice; big and airy and definitely much more comfortable than the area the initiates sleep in. There are large dark bookshelves that line the walls, and a large dark couch with a very soft-looking grey blanket on it. On the coffee table are a laptop, a stack of files, and a book.

Everything is so organized it hurts.

His kitchen gleams at me, large and surprisingly modern. It looks as though Eric has never so much as opened a cabinet. My mother would kill to cook dinner in a kitchen like this. My chest tightens at the sudden thought of my mother.

"This way." His voice pulls me forward, and I wonder if he always sounds so coolly uninterested. He turns to me, stuck in between his living room and kitchen, and stares. "Are you lost?" One of his eyebrows is raised, and I shake my head.

"No. I like your kitchen." I glance back at it before taking a step towards him.

"Great." His answer is laced with sarcasm. "Maybe you can cook your way to the top of the rankings."

I ignore him.

He unceremoniously flings the door to a room open and steps aside. "This is where you'll stay while you train. Try to keep out of my way while you're here." With that he strides away, off to the other side of the apartment before I can utter a word of thanks. He throws another door open and steps inside without looking back. I can only assume it's his bedroom.

I glance around the room and want to laugh.

Everything is dark in here, too. The black wooden bed frame is large and rich looking; it's shoved against the wall opposite a wide window. Dark drapes cover the panes, and I wonder if the sun rises in this direction. I set my bag down on the bed; before he left, Max had graciously handed me a bag of the basic training gear I would need. There is some sort of tracksuit, dark leggings and a dark shirt, a tank top, and a pair of tennis shoes. I find myself wishing for a tiny bit of color, but that's laughable. Showing up to training with something bright on would make me an easy target.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do now. I remember Four explaining dinner was soon, but I have no idea if I've missed it or not. Asking Eric seems a tiny bit daunting, but my stomach protests and I realize it's better to find out now than to feel hungry all night.

I open the door and make my way past the couch before I realize he's in the kitchen. I freeze in my tracks, stopping to stare for a second.

He's taken off the Dauntless uniform jacket; dressed in a simple black t-shirt, it's obvious just how well-built he really is. His profile is focused on whatever he's plating, and it gives me another second of time. I notice the tattoos on his neck, thick blocks of black running down both sides into his collar. There are dark black gauges in his ear lobes, and I wonder if it hurts to stretch them out like that. His head suddenly jerks up and over to me, and I am trapped under his hard stare.

"You see something you like, little Amity?" His words have a dark mocking tone to them, and I can't find my voice for a moment.

"I wanted to know if I could go get dinner?" I feel stupid asking him. I haven't had to ask anyone for permission to do anything in a long time.

"Here." He crosses the room, shoving a plate at me. "We'll eat lunch with everyone else. I rarely eat dinner down there." His voice is low and slick, and I swallow nervously. He raises an eyebrow and holds the plate out again. "I promised Max I'd keep you alive, so you don't have to worry that I poisoned your food. At least not tonight." He smirks at me again, his eyes as intense as ever. He'd be handsome if he could learn to smile properly.

I reach my hand out hesitantly, and I take the plate. Chicken, vegetables, and some sort of dinner roll are neatly arranged on it. "Thank you." He nods in return, and I glance around the apartment for some sort of dinner table. There isn't one, so I awkwardly perch on the edge of the couch. Eric sits down in the general vicinity of me, and his gaze has returned to its normal glare.

"Eat. You won't make it through a day of training if you don't eat." He watches me as one would watch a small child, and he isn't satisfied until I lift a forkful of carrots into my mouth. I try to smile while chewing, a skill I apparently don't possess, because he only glares harder.

"Eat the chicken. You need the protein." He frowns now, his own fork still lying on his plate. "Don't tell me you're a vegetarian." The words are laced with disdain; the biggest insult to this hulk of a man would be that I prefer veggies over meat.

I shake my head at him and take a bite of chicken. It tastes surprisingly good, and normal. I watch him finally take a bite as well, and I'm relieved when he seems satisfied enough to leave me alone. We finish eating in silence, and I stand to walk my plate to the sink.

"Thank you for dinner." I try to be polite, but he just narrows his eyes and nods his head.

I wash my plate quickly, and set it to the side to dry. I notice there is nothing else in his sink, and almost nothing on his counter except for a few letters with an Erudite logo on the top of them. I slink my way back to the bedroom, and quietly shut the door.

Sleep doesn't come easily, but eventually it does come.

 

Five am is much earlier than expected. Eric wakes me up by snarling my name and sullenly telling me that I have half an hour to get ready.

"After today I won't be your alarm clock."

His voice washes over me, and I struggle to sit up and squint at him. In the dark of the morning there is no natural sunlight, and I can barely make him out. I wonder if I'm dreaming.

"Any day now, Amity." When he yanks the covers off of me, I know I'm not.

"I'm up. Thank you, Eric." I try to sound sincere, but I feel as though I just fell asleep. My feet hit the soft carpet and I try not to yawn. I can see him better now. He's already dressed, and annoyance radiates from him.

"Didn't you have to be up early to work on the farm?" His eyes look me up and down, and I realize I have no pants on. My shirt is long enough that it comes to my knees, but I might as well be naked in front of him. His gaze unabashedly finds mine.

"Sometimes," I tell him. "I guess I should get dressed."

He shrugs, then turns and is out the door without another word.

"This should be tons of fun," I mumble to no one.

 

The training room is deserted, because no one in their right mind would willingly start this early. Except for Eric.

He stands in front of me and crosses his arms. His scowl has returned, but he somehow manages to look bored as well.

"Start running," he instructs. "Keep going until I tell you to stop."

I nod at him, and take off.

The first few miles are easy, and I keep a pretty decent pace. Amity has lots of large open fields, and I've been chasing after my brothers and sisters for years now. My older brother and I used to race up and down the orchards after dark just to see who was the fastest. I keep going, lap after lap, until I realize Eric is beside me.

"This way."

He increases the pace, and I try to keep up. We run through the compound, soft pink light bursting at us as we head outside. I follow him the best I can; he's not even remotely out of breath, and he looks almost graceful as we make our way through the city. It isn't until we begin a gradual ascent to a broken down structure that my lungs begin to burn.

"Faster." His voice snarls at me, and I try to breathe deeply as we climb higher. By the time we reach the top, I feel like my lungs might explode. He comes to a halt at the edge of the building, and I try hard not to collapse next to him. He gives me some sort of side eye before stretching his arms lazily over his head.

"Ready to head back?" It's less of a question and more of a command, but I nod anyway. I take one final, wistful look at the sunrise, its pinks slowly drifting into reds and yellows, before I turn and realize Eric is glaring at me.

"Are you done?" His words are cold, and I take off almost instantly in response. I slip past him, grateful for the break of the downhill descent. By the time I reach the bottom he's even with me, and then he's easily ahead of me. I try to keep up, but this might as well be a skip in the park for him. I push myself, my legs now aching and my side beginning to burn terribly, but I make my way back into the compound and come to a stop in front of him.

He doesn't look like someone who just ran for miles, but I can hardly say the same for myself. I am sticky and sweaty, and I shove my hair out of my eyes.

"Go get a drink, then meet me back here. We'll start on the bags." He doesn't look at me and I quickly make my way to get a drink. I adjust my hair, pulling it up into a bun on top of my head and out of my face. I can only imagine what he's got in store for me now.

Apparently, Eric intends that I should barely be able to move my arms by the time we break for lunch.

He watches me like a hawk, his eyes fixated on my every move.

"You're not good. But you're not completely hopeless." His low voice growls into my ear, making me jump slightly. He almost smiles at this, and I nearly jump again when his hands are suddenly on mine. He positions himself behind me, and pushes my stance forward.

"Like this." He demonstrates several times before he lets go of me. I mimic what he showed me, and he nods in what I assume is some sort of minor approval. "You do a lot of fighting back in Amity? Is that why you're here? You get kicked out?" His voice has a hint of curiosity, and I want to smirk at him for a change.

But I also want to make it through initiation, so I don't. Instead I just shrug at him, and resume punching at the bag. I can tell he's irritated at my lack of response, and when I feel him come up right behind me I freeze.

"I asked you a question, Amity." He's close to my ear, and I try to ignore the feeling of him behind me. I finally relent.

"My brother showed me a few things," I mumble. I push a stray piece of hair out of my eyes and turn as he takes a step back. "I've wanted out of Amity for a while now. He offered to help."

"Ahhh." Eric cocks his head and his lips curl into some half-smile. "I see. Trying to get a leg up on the competition. I hear Amity has a great training program."

It's my turn to glare at him, and it happens before I can realize it shouldn't. "Funny," I snap. Fighting in Amity isn't unheard of, it just isn't acceptable.

Before Eric can say anything else, Four's class bursts through the doors, loudly talking and chatting away. I'm surprised to find it's after eight already. They quiet down as they walk past Eric and me, their stares curious. Eric gives them the same dark look he gave me in the control room, and most of them shrink away. I can hear their low murmurs of his name and mine.

"This way, Amity." Eric's icy voice breaks my concentration, and I obediently follow him out of the room. We make our way through the hallway, and I realize we're heading back outside. Eric comes to a stop in front of the train tracks.

"Same route."

With that he's off, and I try not to die as I follow after him.

 

I sit at the table by myself and do my best to eat.

I can't help but feel a little exhausted and a lot hopeless. It's obvious Eric isn't going to make anything easy for me, and even though I know I can do it, it feels overwhelming. Eating alone doesn't make me feel all that great, either. It would be laughable to attempt to sit with anyone from Four's class, so instead I try to pretend like I really enjoy the solitude my table offers me. I stab aimlessly at my turkey and move it around my plate.

I glance around the room quickly, and wish there were anyone familiar here.

There isn't. I don't even recognize Four's class of initiates in their dark clothing, and everyone else is engrossed in their own conversations. I'm about to throw my lunch out and just go wait in the training room when someone slides into the seat next to mine.

I try to ignore the sense of dread I feel when I realize it's Eric.

"Eat," he barks at me, his eyes landing on my plate. "What did I tell you last night?"

"I am," I protest. I take a bite of turkey, and Eric is unimpressed. I want to tell him to scoot over, that he's too close and too big and too intense to be at my table. But he's glaring at me, and all I can do is try to eat a few more bites before I excuse myself.

"You won't make it through this afternoon if you don't eat. But suit yourself." He shrugs and continues to alternate between eating and glaring, then sometimes glaring while eating. Those around us watch us curiously, but they quickly look away when Eric's unfriendly eyes find them.

"What are we doing this afternoon?" I ask him in an effort to make polite conversation. His eyes meet mine, and then he looks away.

"Training," he says shortly.

I sigh next to him. I force myself to take a few more halfhearted bites of my green beans and turkey before I stand up to put my tray away.

"Sit down," Eric snaps at me, and I obediently resume sitting. His gaze is back on me now, and his stare is cold and unamused. "Finish your lunch. We have a lot to do this afternoon and passing out from hunger isn't on the list."

"Fine."

We eat the rest of the meal in silence. When he's finished eating, he stands, nods at me, and wordlessly makes his way out of the hall. I follow him, my heart in my throat, hoping the rest of the afternoon goes smoothly.

 

I'm jealous of Four's class.

Not because they are all in it together as some sort of brotherly clan; in fact, they seem to rabidly hate each other, and not because they have Four as a trainer. Mostly it's because at the end of the day, they get a break from their training.

I don't.

After Eric is done making me demonstrate every form of cardio and strength training he can think of, he informs me we will head back to the apartment. My heart leaps at this opportunity. Not only is Four's class still plodding along next to us, most of them clumsily punching at the bags and generally messing around and calling each other out, but it's still early in the afternoon. Perhaps training with Eric has its perks.

I should have known better.

The apartment is dark and cool, and I would skip into the bathroom if my legs could handle it.

The shower might just be the best part of the day. I say a small word of thanks that I can shower privately without other initiates next to me, but I'm brought back to reality by Eric's voice. I wrap myself in the large bath towel on the rack and step into my bedroom. "Just a minute," I start to yell out. I almost jump out of my skin when I realize Eric is standing in my room, holding a stack of books.

"What are those?" I manage to ask. I pull the towel tighter around me, and try to ignore Eric's lingering gaze on me. His grey eyes seem to burn with some sort of amusement. I shift awkwardly; I can feel water dripping onto my neck and down my shoulders.

"Books," Eric answers dryly. "You read them."

"Ok, great. Thank you. Can I get dressed now?" He doesn't appear to be in any hurry to leave, and I give him the dirtiest look I dare. He merely smirks in return, and sets the books on my dresser. "If you have to."

With that, he saunters out of the bedroom, and I'm left standing there staring at the pile of books.

I bet Four's class doesn't have homework.


	3. Eric and a thousand ways to never have cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been flawlessly edited by BK2U.

His hands are warm and the tiniest bit familiar now.

"Aim a little more to the left, and fire."

They cover mine for the most part; I'm trapped between his arms and against his chest. I try to focus my aim on the target.

"Any day now, Amity." His voice is low and all too close to my ear, so I fire the gun. I'm not prepared for the kickback, but he is. He stays solid behind me, and I find myself pushed back into him with surprising force.

"Again," Eric drawls.

I aim the gun again, his hands still on mine, and this time it hits the target dead center. I'm still thrown back a step, but this time I'm a little more prepared.

"Again."

It goes on for hours. He eventually lets go of me, and I manage to keep hitting the target. He seems pleased, but he also seems exasperated, so I focus on the gun in my hand. It's cold and heavy, and between the punching and the gun training, my arms are close to falling off.

"Take a break," he yells out, his eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand. He types something into it, for once paying no attention to me.

I gratefully set the gun down, making sure the safety is on, and I sit down on the ledge and take a sip of the water I've brought with me. The sun is high in the sky, and even though it's warm now, there's a slight coolness to the breeze that blows. I take a second to stretch out, enjoying the feeling of my muscles relaxing.

Eric's training is tough, much tougher than what the other classes are enduring. I've seen some of the Dauntless-born a few times, mostly when Eric and I are on our way back from our morning runs. Lauren seems to have them starting around seven, and they usually look half-asleep. Some of them scowl as we run by, but a few stare with what seems to be envy. Training with one of the leaders of Dauntless isn't an everyday occurrence. Especially training with Eric.

Four's class seems to be all over the place. While some seem like decent competition, they all seem at odds with each other. If I listen hard enough, I can hear the constant snapping and tearing at each other. Some of them seem to spend a good deal of time trying to find out what I'm doing. Nothing is more pleasing to me than when Eric spies one of them watching us. His glare is usually enough to send them scampering off, heads down.

He's still typing away, and it gives me a chance to watch him for a change. I'm pleased with my progress, but I have no idea if he is. During our runs I can keep up with him almost the entire time, and I can see the definition in my arms from the hours logged on the punching bags. I feel strong here. I find myself liking it despite my intense training conditions. I turn my focus back to Eric. He frowns for a moment, and then his eyes meet mine.

I'm busted, but Eric doesn't seem to be bothered by anyone's stares, let alone mine.

"Time to head inside. We've got a few things to do before lunch." He stalks off ahead of me, knowing full well I will follow behind him.

 

"Next week we'll start the fights. You'll be ranked on your performance in them." Eric's words are serious, and his expression is even more severe. "Because I am training you, it's expected that you will do well."

His eyes look me up and down, and he lets out a small sigh.

"Let's get started."

He shows me some of the more basic fighting moves, and when I've mastered those, he pushes me forward to a more advanced set. He helps position my arms and legs, and by now I've grown accustomed to his methods. I don't flinch when he shoves my legs further apart with one of his own, and I don't bat an eye when he places his hands on my hips. I listen to him, trying to absorb every word he says. My brother knew some of the basic concepts of how to fight, but this is a whole different level.

I don't notice we've worked our way through our normal lunch break until Four's class starts to filter into the training room. Eric looks up, mild surprise crossing his face.

"Guess we lost track of time." I watch them file by, and they almost all glare at me. I resist the surprising urge to take a step closer to Eric; how delightful I'm sure they would find it if I allowed myself to hide behind him. Not to mention the fact that Eric would probably rip me apart and throw me back at them. Beside me, Eric nods his head and I can almost feel him straighten his spine as Four finally nears us.

Four throws me a small smile, and beside me I can see Eric grimace.

"We missed you at lunch. You two not eating today?" Four raises an eyebrow at 'lunch' and I almost laugh. I've never even noticed him in the mess hall, and he's probably only asking to make sure Eric is letting me eat.

"We've been busy." Eric's words are icy, and I am suddenly aware of the thick tension between the two of them. I'm standing in the middle of them, and Four takes a step closer to me.

"Too busy to eat? That's not good. It looks like you've lost a bit of weight, Everly." His words are full of sincere concern, but Eric's jaw clenches as though Four just accused him of deliberately starving me. I find myself taking a step back towards Eric, almost in an unconscious defense of him. I'm almost against his chest now, and I can feel the anger radiating off of him.

"No, I'm fine. I just want to do as much as I can. We were actually just leaving now to go eat. Plus, I, uh, you know, have been working out just a little more than normal." I shrug at Four, and throw him a smile that I hope reaches my eyes. "But thank you for your concern."

Four's eyes search mine, and I find myself wanting him to leave me alone. I actually enjoyed my lesson with Eric today, and I have a feeling this is about to end the tiny bit of satisfaction I had. He finally nods, and Eric takes a step forward. His fingers brush against mine as he almost knocks me out of the way.

"Are you implying I'm not letting her eat, Four?" He stands in front of me now, his shoulders squared towards Four. I can't see anything over Eric, so I try to mentally tell Four to abort this conversation now.

It must work, or I've lost my sense of hearing, because they suddenly seem to finish their conversation and Four heads back towards his class. He throws me one final worried look, and I half-heartedly smile back.

"Come on," Eric's rough voice calls out to me, and I trail after him towards the mess hall. I have to almost run to keep up with him. He comes to a sudden halt in front of the large doors, and I nearly crash into him.

"Is there something you aren't telling me?" His voice is nearly acidic now, and confusion washes over me. I shake my head at him.

"What do you mean?" I find his eyes, and in the dim hallway, he looks positively livid.

"Are you still hungry? Am I not feeding you enough for dinner? Or are you and Four just trying to screw with me…"

"Wait, Four and me? I haven't spoken to Four since he took me to Max's office. When would I see him? I'm always with you!" I interrupt him, utterly confused. "And I'm fine. I'm not hungry after any of my meals, and if I was, don't you think I'd tell you?" I watch as his shoulders ease the tiniest bit, and he seems to actually be listening to me for once. It's short-lived.

"Don't lose any more weight," he finally snaps at me, throwing the door open.

 

"Finish your spaghetti."

I groan and close my eyes. I don't want any more spaghetti; in fact, I never want to eat again. Eric took Four's accusation to heart, and he obsessively watched me eat lunch. For dinner, he proceeded to serve me enough pasta to feed the entire population of Dauntless. I shake my head at him with my eyes shut.

"I'm too tired to eat."

He makes some sort of growling sound, and I pry one eye open at him. His expression matches what I'd imagined in my head.

"Everly." It's the first time he's said my actual name, and it sounds just as vicious as I'd expected.

I shake my head again, and adjust myself so I'm leaning against one of the dark pillows.

"Are you falling asleep?" Eric asks incredulously. I don't answer him. The pillow isn't exactly comfortable, and I almost laugh. I bet no one but me has ever sat on this couch.

"You eat the spaghetti," I finally mumble.

Eric makes some sort of unpleasant noise, and I realize no one must ever tell him what to do.

It's fine, though, because I can feel myself drift off, sweetly and exhaustedly, into a blissful sleep.

 

I awake sometime in the middle of the night.

My room is dark and cold, and I sit up with a start. I'm in my bed, somewhat warm beneath the dark covers. My throat is dry and sticky, and I shove the covers back after deciding I need a drink. My bare feet hit the carpet, and it takes me a horrifyingly long moment to realize my legs are bare, too.

There's only one other person in this apartment, and that person apparently had the honor of carrying me to bed and partially undressing me. Horror wells up in my stomach. While I'm still dressed in one of the few shirts I own, Eric has removed my socks and leggings. I can feel my cheeks warm at the thought.

I make my way out to the kitchen.

I quietly find a glass, and greedily drink the water until I am no longer thirsty. I put the glass in the sink, and take a quick look around. Eric has put everything away, and the living room still looks like no one has ever been in it. I decide to head back to bed, but I stop when I realize Eric's door is open.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I soundlessly walk closer to it. I hug my arms to my chest, and I try to summon up my courage. I stop in the doorway, wondering just how stupid I really am. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I can just make out his sleeping form. Eric is fast asleep on his side, his bare back to me. One of his legs is free from the tangle of his sheets, and I take in the curve of his calf muscle. He shifts suddenly; he turns onto his back, flinging one of his arms out to the side. His movement is enough to end my nighttime study, and I quickly make my way back to my own room.

I shiver as I slide under my own covers.

There is a small thrill that runs through me, but I can't tell if it's due to my spying on Eric or the fact that I got away with it.

 

I only have a week of training left before we start the actual fighting.

I try to listen to what Eric is saying; something about knives and something about how I'm going to throw them and they will land right where I want them to go. But I'm distracted. But not for the reason I would expect.

One of his eyebrows is raised, and his expression tells me he's aware I haven't been listening.

"Any questions before we begin?"

"Yes." I square my shoulders and try to draw myself up to look taller. It doesn't exactly work; I only come up to somewhere near the middle of his chest, but it was worth a shot. "Why haven't I been allowed to have any cake?"

Confusion flashes across his face before it is replaced by utter exasperation.

"I meant questions about the training," he barks at me.

"I know what you meant. But I also know that you failed to mention Dauntless had cake, and you failed to let me have any. I bet Four's class gets cake."

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and I want to die. This is not me. I am not mouthy or snappy, and I am not one to argue with authority. But I can't help myself. I am tired from both the endless training and the endless reading I do afterward. I am perpetually cold here, and my sleep hasn't been the best because Eric's apartment is apparently the same temperature as the Arctic. And while Eric has made sure I've eaten a perfectly healthy and sustaining diet, I would happily commit murder for something containing sugar.

I realize there may actually be a murder when Eric's eyes flash and he lunges at me.

"What did you say?" His hand finds my wrist and he yanks me forward until I am flush against his chest. "Say it again, Amity." His tone tells me he is highly unamused.

"I…I…" His gaze is so intense that I could probably snap underneath it. "I just want some cake." His grip tightens on me, and it starts to hurt. I should have forgotten about the damned cake. I only knew about it because I overheard someone from Four's class talking about it.

"I swear I heard you mention Four's name."

He's not stupid, and I'm not about to pretend he's stupid. I try to yank my wrist away from him, but it's useless. "That was unnecessary. I didn't mean that. I just..." I close my eyes for a second and wait for him to murder me. "I thought maybe you just didn't want to share the cake?"

Eric cocks his head, and he finally loosens his grip on me. I chew at my lip nervously, and avert my gaze. "I'm sorry," I mumble. He's so close to me that I can feel him breathing.

"Don't say his name again." It's a dark warning, and I nod at him. I'm hyper-aware of how closely I am still pressed up against him. He finally takes a step back and suddenly sneers at me.

"Hit all the targets today and you can have your cake."

 

 

I manage to hit zero targets on my own.

Eric's smirk tells me he expected as much.

"Well, that was pathetic." His tone is almost joyful, and I try to ignore him as I throw another knife. It lands a little closer to the outline of the body, but nowhere near where it should be.

"Will you help me?" I ask him. I need his help, and there's no point in wasting the afternoon. His head jerks back at me, and I swear he looks amused.

"I suppose I could." He walks over to me, and his glare has changed to something lethal. "Or maybe Four could help you." He stands behind me and roughly pulls me back against him; he positions my arm and kicks one leg forward. "Should I go get him?"

I shake my head. "I said I was sorry."

"Shift forward, and tilt your wrist." He's so close to my ear that it makes me nervous. "Look at your target first."

I release the knife easily this time, and it hits a few inches away from the center.

"You can get closer." His lips graze my ear this time, and he helps pull my arm back into position. I take a second to steady my aim before I throw the knife.

When it hits dead center, Eric merely shifts behind me and I swear his grip tightens on my hip bone. "Again."

Two hours later, I have only missed one target and Eric hasn't said much else. I finally stop throwing when my arm starts to feel numb. A few of the boys from Four's class trickle into the training room, and I realize it's almost time for us to be done for the day. One of them, a brave, dumb soul, wanders over to us. He gapes at the targets and the knives stuck in different positions.

"You guys are already on knives?" Eric and I both turn to look at him, and he's staring at us as though he's never seen us before. "We haven't even finished learning our combat terms." He throws a dirty look back at a few of the guys he came with before he whirls back around to us.

"Why don't we get to train with you?" He juts his chin out in indignation. "She should be over there with him and we should be training with you."

Eric stands and gives me a long look before he answers the initiate.

"I have no interest in training you. Go back to your instructor and you can discuss your curriculum with him."


	4. Faction before blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this story and comment. I'm glad you guys enjoyed it. I have no idea how to reply (go figure!) but they made me smile.

Eric seems to have some sort of soft spot for making me want to die. 

“Three more.” He hisses. We’ve been at this for a couple of hours now; my arms are starting to feel like jello. I’m starting to see how Eric maintains his physique. His added daily session of weight training might be even worse than watching Four’s class shoot me murderous looks every chance they get. I lift the bar again, and try to make my arms stop shaking. While I’ve grown stronger, I’m not quite sure I can keep this up for much longer.

“I’m going to drop it.” I manage to gasp out. My lungs burn with the effort, and my arms start to tremble with defeat. I try to remember what I’ve learned about building muscle. The lactic acid that my muscles have been steadily producing for the past two hours is causing some sort of terrible burn, and it turns white hot. 

I feel my arms collapse under the weight, and I pray my death is swift. 

It doesn’t come of course; Eric is behind me, and he catches the bar easily. His arms are flexed above me, the muscles in his fore arms pronounced under the slight stress. He stares at me from his vantage point, his face upside down.

“I guess I’ll forgive your cowardice.”

“You’re too kind.” I snap back, and wait for him to move the bar. I’m effectively trapped underneath it. He squints at me for a second, the kind of look where he raises one eye brow and his piercings almost disappear into his short hair. 

“Don't get used to it, Amity.” He snaps, raising the bar and slamming back into the brackets. 

 

No one comes to see me during visiting day.

I should have expected it. After all, Eric had warned me that sometimes parents and siblings choose not to come. Seeing as how Amity and Dauntless are almost polar opposites, I can understand why no one is here for me.

It still sucks. I find myself standing in the center of the Pit, feeling completely and utterly alone. All around me families are chatting away, hugging their loved ones. I watch as a sweet looking woman brushes the hair out of her son’s eyes, and I have the sudden mean urge to tell her that her precious child is actually a major jerk. I give my former family a few more halfhearted minutes before I decide to head back upstairs. 

One of the taller initiates purposely knocks into my shoulder, then throws me a wide, fake smile. 

“Ohhhh, sorry Everly. I didn’t see you there.” He pauses, glowering in front of his two parents dressed in their black and white outfits. “Oh, did your family not come today?” His words sound sympathetic, but they are laced with mockery. 

“Faction before blood.” I find myself shrugging up at him, smiling sweetly. 

His parents watch me carefully. His eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth to retort something, but I slip out of the room. My chest hurts, and I let out a frustrated sigh. I make my way through the twisting hallway. I can feel the melancholy slipping over me, and I can’t help it. I feel like a traitor for even wishing they had come. 

I turn a corner, making my way towards the elevators when I feel a hand on my shoulder. It pulls me backwards, and it doesn’t surprise me when I turn around to find Eric behind me. He stares for a second before clearing his throat. 

“They didn’t come?” He doesn’t sound as annoyed as he normally does. I shake my head and meet his hard gaze. 

“It was probably stupid to think they would.”

He shakes his head slightly. “It’s better this way. It’s easier to deal with the detachment if they aren’t here.” I nod at him, but I drop my gaze. 

“It would just be nice to see someone familiar again.” I find myself sounding wistful, and I should stop now. I don’t need him thinking I can’t handle it on my own. “I’m just gonna go back and finish my reading.” I look back up at him, trying to keep my expression neutral.  
Eric doesn’t say anything; he keeps looking at me, his gaze intense. He finally nods at me and sighs. 

“I’ll be there in a bit. Start on the next chapter if you can.”

 

It’s nearly sundown when Eric returns. 

I’m curled up on his couch, lost in the last chapter of a history book. It’s not the book I’m supposed to be reading, but it’s done an effective job at keeping my mind off my lack of family. I almost don’t hear him come in until he sits down on the couch next to me and offers me a plate. 

“Eat up.” His gaze falls on the book in my hand, and his lips curl up ever so slightly when he sees the title. “I don’t believe that’s what you’re supposed to be reading.”

I feel a tiny bit guilty, but I ignore it. His bookshelves are lined with all sorts of books, but this is the closest thing he’s got to non-fiction. It felt almost voyeuristic to skim through the titles. 

“Do you really think dinosaurs once ruled the land?” I take the plate from him and settle back against the couch. “I feel like that’s made up.” I take a bit of meatloaf, and wait for his answer.

His response is merely a raised eyebrow and an unamused glare. His eyes are light gray in this light, and I find myself staring a moment too long. 

“Did you have another meeting?” I ask him, trying to think of something to talk about. He’s quiet, and sometimes when he’s quiet I get nervous. It usually means he’s thinking of something that I should be doing to prove my dauntlessness. 

“No, I got stuck trying to explain to some dumb fucks and their families why I’m not their instructor.” Eric takes a bit of his dinner. 

I try not to laugh. One of them had to be Dean. Dean’s been sulking around our training for some time now. He’s been watching what we’re doing; trying to see if it’s better than what Four’s showing him. Eric hasn’t had a ton of patience with him. 

“Sorry.” I find myself smiling in amusement, and Eric rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t be.” He mutters. His gaze is down at his plate, and his features are sharp from this angle. I take in his strong jawline and the curve of his nose. He’s handsome in his own way; if someone could handle his temperament. His eyes flash up to meet mine, and I wonder if he can read my thoughts. 

“Are you done?” His voice has that same rough tone as to when he’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.   
I nod, even though I’ve only eaten half the food, I’m fairly full. Today has left me with little appetite, and I’m mostly looking forward to going to sleep and pretending I’m fine with being on my own. 

For once he doesn’t say anything. He stands and takes my plate from me. I sink back against the couch, and my attention turns back to the book on the table. 

Ancient History of the Worlds- Our Past Revealed. 

“Here.” Eric’s voice makes me jump, and I look up at him. He’s standing in front of me, holding another plate in his hand. His jaw is still tight, and he patiently waits for me to take it. I sit up slightly straighter, and my face breaks out into a surprised smile.   
I take the plate from him with a thank you. He nods at me, and then stomps off wordlessly without looking back. 

On the plate, directly in the center, sits a very large piece of chocolate cake. 

 

The next few days pass quickly.

My eyes cross when I try to memorize all the types of fighting defenses outlined in the book. Tomorrow is the first day of fighting, and while I doubt I’ll be fighting anyone from Four’s class, I have the sinking feeling I’ll be fighting against Eric. 

_"Watch for any repetitive motions or ticks; anything to suggest a pre-attack ritual may be beneficial in defeating your opponent."_

I let out a small sigh, and rest my head on my hand, elbow propped up on the back of the couch. 

“Is that book boring you, Amity?” Eric’s voice slices through my concentration and I look up at him. He’s been in the same spot since we finished dinner; his feet are propped up on the coffee table and he’s been engrossed in something on his tablet. 

I shake my head, ignoring small warning that’s going off in my mind. I should have remembered he was there next to me. “Just a lot of information to try to remember.” I flip the page over, and try to focus, but I can feel him sliding closer to me. Suddenly the book is yanked out from my hands. 

“I wasn’t quite finished.” I stare up at him, trying not to acknowledge his cruel smile. 

“I think we should get started tonight.” He looks almost excited at the thought, and a tiny spark of fear runs down my spine. “Get a leg up on tomorrow’s lesson.” He stands without waiting for my response, and pulls himself to his full height. I ignore him, trying to look anywhere but him.

“Maybe you could just help me go over the next chapter.” My answer isn’t pleasing to him, because the next thing I know, he’s got one arm on either side of me, and he leans in close. I can smell the lingering scent of aftershave on his skin, and I can feel the scrape of his stubble against my cheek.

“Orders are not options, here.” His voice is as low as ever. I’m onto his intimidation tricks. Invasion of personal space, cruel glares, cutting remarks, the lack of personal recognition. It doesn’t mean they don’t work. I swear he lets his cheek graze against mine on purpose as he moves backwards. 

“Got it.” I answer him, my voice sounding higher than normal. I slide off the couch and flash him a big smile as I walk to find a pair of tennis shoes.  
I’m screwed.

 

The third time my head slams into the mat is the first time I wonder if my life will flash before my eyes.

I groan, and manage to force myself up. Turns out my brother knows nothing about fighting someone who is apparently the grand champion of all combat. Eric has easily defeated every attack I’ve made, and predicted every move I go to make. I would almost think I’m boring him except for the small smile that appears every time his fist connects with my body. 

“You ready for some real fighting?” He stands before me and I want to back away off the mat. His full size is menacing off the mat, but on the mat it’s even worse. He’s lost the jacket and the t-shirt, and thin black tank top only seems to emphasize that he could easily pound me into the ground. His arms are huge, and he glowers when I assume the defensive posture. 

“No.” I answer him honestly, and he stops for a second. 

“You aren’t even trying.” He sounds like he’s scolding me, and it suddenly infuriates me.

“I am too! You’ve just got a few years practice on me. How am I even supposed to get close enough to try and hit you?” The words rush out and a plan forms in my head. A really stupid plan, but it’s the best one I’ve got. I lunge forward while he’s mulling over what I said, hoping to catch him off guard. 

It works for a second. 

My fist connects with his side, but it’s barely enough to even touch his balance. He takes half a step backwards before making his way back at me. His first punch hits my stomach, and his second hits my side. I swallow and stagger for a second. He’s smirking again, and when he turns for a half second I kick him, as hard as I can, right on the side of his knee. 

Eric staggers forward, his weight thrown off now, and gracelessly crashes down over me. He knocks into me, taking me down with him. He’s heavy and solid above me, and his whole body now covers mine. The weight isn’t unpleasant, and he’s warm against my exposed skin. He stays there for a second before he presses himself up slightly, his pelvis now pressed against mine.

“Are you ready to stop playing?” His eyes hold mine, and I find myself thinking just how pretty they actually are. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. He smirks at me from his vantage point, before he pushes himself up. 

“Again, Amity.”

 

There is a girl waiting for us when we arrive at the training room the next morning.

She’s pretty; tan skin and shiny black hair. She’s watching us curiously, and she looks confused when Eric and I stop in front of her. 

“Christina. Thanks for joining us.” Eric’s voice is smooth this morning, and I’m too tired to pick up on why. He made me fight against him until sometime early this morning. We didn’t stop until I’d managed to hit him a few times, and I’d wondered if it was only because he’d grown tired of punching me. 

“What exactly do you need Eric?” Christina asks him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Your instructions weren’t exactly clear.” 

Eric turns to me, and I look up at him expectantly. For a moment I wonder what he sees- just another initiate with messy hair and no hope for survival in this place, or someone worth training. I have a feeling it’s the former, and I avert my eyes after a minute. 

“I need you to fight her.” 

Christina groans and shakes her head. “No. I can’t help you there.”

Eric gives her a wide smile, cold and fake. “It’s not a request, it’s an order. I need to see how she fights against someone other than me.” 

Christina’s eyes widen, and she turns to me. “You fought against Eric?”

I nod silently. 

“I’m surprised you’re walking today.” I can feel her eyes drifting over me, seeking out bruises and cuts. There are none. Eric never hit me hard enough to leave a mark. I catch his expression, and he’s watching Christina with a bored look. 

“I’d like to get started today initiates.” 

Christina throws him a dirty look. “You know I’m a member of dauntless, right. An actual member. Not an initiate anymore.” 

I wonder if they were in the same class, or if Eric was her trainer at some point. Either way he ignores her, and motions towards the mat. Christina lets out a huff of exasperation and finally throws me one final sympathetic glance. 

“Fine.”

 

Eric had some sort of meeting to attend during lunch, and I found myself unexpectedly disappointed when he informed me he wouldn’t be at lunch. I told myself it was only because I didn’t want to eat alone. Even Eric’s company was better than no company at all. So I nodded at him, and made my way to the mess hall. I sat at my normal table, eating some sort of fruity salad and sliced chicken when Christina plops herself down next to me.

“How are you feeling?” She’s a red mark on her jaw, and a bruise on her neck and arm. Fighting her was much much different than Eric, and I’d been proud of how well I’d done. Eric had merely nodded at me and thanked Christina. Eric hadn’t said a word about anything other than his announcement that’d he’d see me when he was done with his meeting. I found myself wishing he’d at least offer up some sort of critique.

“I’m good.” I tell her, taking a long sip of water. “I’m actually really thankful you were there to help me today. It was nice to have someone other than Eric help me.” 

She smiles in understanding. “He’s a bit intense. Ok, a lot intense.”

I let out a small laugh and take another bite. Christina wrinkles her nose at my plate. “That’s what you’re eating? No dessert?” I shake my head at her and almost laugh again. 

“I’m good.” With my luck, Eric would have spies watching to see what I had for lunch and were reporting it back to him right now. Having cake for lunch sounded fantastic, but probably wouldn’t be worth the lecture I’d receive later on. And there was the small fact that I still had almost two thirds of a piece of cake waiting for me back upstairs. 

She watches me carefully for a minute, almost as though she’s thinking hard about what she’s about to say. “Do you want to meet me after training? There’s a few stores on the third floor. We could pick up some supplies for you. That was my favorite part of initiation. The shopping. ”

This is news to me, and I look at her curiously. “Stores?”

“I take it Eric didn’t take you by there?” She asks, shoving a piece of her sandwich in her mouth. 

“No, he didn’t.” He actually hasn’t taken me anywhere other than his apartment and the training room. I’m starting to wonder if he likes me not knowing where I’m going. 

“Go figure. I’ll meet you around six. I think you need a little break from our fearless leader.”

 

 

I sit and watch the boys fight.

Eric still isn’t back from his meeting, and when I wandered into the training room, Four’s class was just beginning to start their second round of fights. Four nods at me when I walk up, then continues watching the two boys go at each other. Their movements are sloppy and ill timed, and I know Eric would hate it. 

I sit down by myself and watch, trying to absorb anything that might be useful. 

I’m disappointed to find out there isn’t a whole lot. The boys swing wildly and unpracticed, and almost spastically make their way around the mat. Four comes over to where I’m sitting, and his eyes give me the same once over than everyone seems to do. When he finds no traces of torture, he smiles. 

“How’s the training going, Everly?” It’s weird to hear my real name, and not Amity or initiate. It sounds almost pleasant. I smile up at him. 

“It’s going well, I think.” I answer him honestly. “I’m still alive, right?” He lets out a small snicker. 

“You are. And where is Eric?” Four asks me, now quiet. 

“He’s in a meeting.” I tell him, my eyes still watching the two fight. “Is it ok if I sit here? Should I go somewhere else? I just wasn’t sure where I should wait.”

Four shakes his head, his eyes soft. “You are fine. You can sit there. He’s probably caught up with Max.” He looks at me suddenly. “Actually, do you want to spar against someone?” His eyes scan the room for a second before they fall upon one of the smaller initiates. He’s still much taller than me, but he’s not overly muscular. I should feel insulted that he’s picked who I can only assume is the weakest on in his group, but I’m not. I have a feeling this boy is the option least likely to beat the living daylights out of me. 

I look up at him, and I immediately wonder if Eric put him up to this. “Sure.” I rise to my feet. 

“James!” He calls over the dark haired boy, and quietly explains what he wants us to do. “Just practice. This isn’t a real fight. You won’t be scored.”

James nods at him, and doesn’t say anything to me. He follows me over to the second ring, and assumes the standard fighting posture. 

“You first.” He says roughly. I can tell he’s not entirely thrilled to be practicing with me, but he can’t exactly tell Four that. I nod at him, take a fake step forward, and then throw my punch. It hits him in the side, and even though it doesn’t inflict any real damage to him, he scowls at me.

The time flies by. We test each other out, almost in some sort of weird understanding. I let him try what he’s learned, and he lets me try what Eric’s taught me. Eric’s method is far superior, and I can tell James is starting to get frustrated. 

“Do you want to stop? We could head back over to Four and…” I’m in the middle of my sentence when his punch collides with my temple hard enough that stars burst in front of my eyes. I stagger backwards, trying to regain my balance.

“Like I’d concede to you.” James snarls at me, seeming to forget that this was supposed to be a practice match. I try to block his next punch, but he hits me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I can feel myself collapse, and he takes the opportunity to climb on top of me and pin me down. He starts to punch repeatedly; there’s an obvious buildup of pent up aggression and it’s coming out in some sort of rage against me. He stops for a second, before the next blow hits the side of my head.   
The pain is beyond anything I’ve ever felt. My vision blurs as the attack continues, and then it suddenly subsides. I can hear him panting above me, and I use his hesitation to my advantage. I manage to work my knee out from beneath him, and aim directly for his groin. 

He reels back for a second before he’s back atop of me, shoving me back into the mat. 

One of his hands closes around my throat, and I’m overcome with panic when I suddenly can’t breathe. 

“Stop!” I try to gasp James’ name out, and he lessens his grip ever so slightly. I thrash against him wildly now, kicking and trying to hit him as wherever I can. It doesn’t really work, and when I finally do manage to hit him somewhere, he tightens his hold on my throat. 

“Fucking bitch.”

I can hear his words, and my hands wildly claw at him. It’s getting harder to breathe now, and he isn’t letting go. 

“You think you’re so special cause you get Eric to train you.” The pressure increases until the room starts to darken. I try one final time to get away, but it’s useless. I can hear dull voices in the background, but they sound far away. The room spins, and I close my eyes. 

And suddenly, the pressure is gone. 

I can feel myself gasping, my throat aching with relief. James is now standing, and it takes me a second to realize he’s being held up by the back of his neck by one very outraged looking Eric. I’ve never seen this particular look on Eric’s face before; his eyes are so dark they are almost black, and his jaw is clenched so tightly it looks like it could break. 

Four is there too, pulling on Eric’s arm and trying to get him to release James. I can hear him yelling, but I can’t make out a word anyone is saying. Eric’s eyes find mine, and suddenly they change. He drops James and begins to walk over to me. I’m still on the mat. I would get up, but the room is dark around the edges and for the first time since choosing Dauntless, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. Then everything finally darkens as I hear Eric say my name.   
My actual name.


	5. Awake.

I open my eyes to yelling.

I’m curled up on some sort of uncomfortable bed. There are rough white sheets below me, and a railing to the side of me. My head throbs in the worst way, and the light from the dim lighting hurts my eyes. I screw my eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stop the pain, but it doesn’t help.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” The voice is snarling as it comes closer to me, and I immediately recognize the owner of it. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, hoping he’ll think I’m dead and not yell any more. 

“I didn’t think he would attack her. I told him it was just a practice!” Four’s voice protests from somewhere behind Eric. His voice wavers between sounding horrified and sounding miserable. 

“She’s not your initiate.” Eric’s voice seems to roar through the room, and this time I open my eyes. He’s standing a few feet away from the end of my bed, and Four is standing behind him- his eyes riddled with guilt. 

“Yeah, well you were off somewhere else. I didn’t want her to miss out on any training.”

Eric’s hands ball into fists, and he turns to Four, primed to punch him. “I was in a meeting with Jeannine not off having a fucking party. And she’s perfectly fine in her training. She doesn’t need your help.” His words are dripping with venom. 

I manage to sit myself up, and try to stop the room from spinning. Neither of them notices me; they are both yelling at each other and I watch as a nurse appears and tries to step between them. I want to mutter good luck at her, but I focus on swinging my feet over the edge of the bed. I push my hair out of my eyes, trying to ignore the fact that my head might explode at any minute.

“Hey! You get back in bed!” The nurse finally notices me, and Eric and Four both turn to me. Eric is in front of me in seconds, his hands suddenly on my arms holding me onto in place on the bed.

“What are you doing?” His voice is clipped and angry but his eyes aren’t. I would almost say he looks a tiny bit troubled, but it’s replaced by displeasure when Four comes up behind him. 

“Everly, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think James would go after you like that.” Four’s mouth twists downward, and his eyes express pure concern. “He’ll be appropriately disciplined, don’t worry.”

Eric rolls his eyes, his grip on my arms tightening. “Go the fuck away, Four.” I try to smile at Four, but smiling hurts. Eric shifts himself to the side, blocking Four from being anywhere near the bed. Four protests slightly, but Eric ignores him. If there was something bad between them before, this has done nothing but make it worse. Eric bites at his cheek for a minute, his eyes never leaving mine.   
“Are you ok?” This is the first time I’ve ever heard his voice not have some sort of cold undertone to it. There is nothing laced in it, nothing hidden behind it. I nod at him, and then look away when I feel the urge to cry. I try not to; I know better than to cry in front of Eric. 

“Everly…” Four tries to step aside from Eric, but the nurse appears beside him and pulls on his arm. 

“She can only have one visitor at a time. When he’s done you can talk to her.” Eric smirks at her words, and Four reluctantly nods. 

“Fine. Everly, I’ll find you later.” He hesitates for a second. “I really am sorry.”

I watch him walk away with his head down slightly, and I feel a tiny bit bad for him. I don’t blame him in the least; he didn’t set me up to be attacked. Eric lessens his grip, and I swallow before looking back up at him. The urge to cry is still there, but I need to make it back to the apartment before I let myself cry.

“I want to go home.”

Eric frowns now, his eyes searching mine. 

“Why?” He lets me slide off the bed, and I stumble a bit before he catches me against his chest. He stiffens for a second before letting me stay there against him. The hard fabric of his jacket is rough against my skin. It smells like him, and I try to ignore the fact that I know what he smells like. One of his hands rests on my back, and the other finds itself in my hair. It takes me a long minute to realize he’s feeling for some sort of bump on the back of my skull. When he finds it, I cringe as a fresh wave of pain burst over me.

“Sorry.” He mutters. “Why do you want to go home?”

My lean my head forward until it rests against his chest. He’s solid as ever, and I can feel the muscles move with every breath. 

“I need to lay down.” I mumble. He smells good, like something dark and manly mixed with laundry soap. I definitely must have hit my head harder than I thought. 

“You can lay down here.” He says roughly. His grip on me tightens, holding me still against him.

“No, I need to lay down.” I repeat myself, trying to will the pain in my head to subside. “Upstairs. In my bed.” The throbbing is unrelenting, and I find myself almost unable to open my eyes. “Can I get something for my head? It hurts.”

Eric nods against me. “I’ll get the nurse and we’ll get you upstairs.” His grip tightens then, his fingers curling into the hair at my nape. “I thought you meant you wanted to go back to Amity.” His last words are so quiet I almost don’t hear them. Or maybe he never says them and I just think he does. 

There is a loud crash that echoes through the room, and Eric lets go of me suddenly. He breaks apart from me and we both turn to the direction of the noise. My eyes fall on Four; he’s watching us with his mouth slightly opened, and a cart full of medication shoved up against the wall. He frowns at me, his eyes unreadable before he sprints out of the room. 

 

The pain medication is a miraculous and wonderful thing. 

Back in Amity, someone would have wiped my forehead off and offered up some arnica and suggested I take a nap. Here, the nurse administers something that stops the blinding pain in the back of my skull almost immediately, and informs Eric I can sleep, but I’ll need to be woken up after a few hours. The medicine, some strong sounding name, will make me sleep, but I should be able to be roused from it.

I manage to walk out of the infirmary mostly on my own. By the time I reach the elevator, I’m a little dizzied. Eric stands a few feet away from me, not meeting my gaze. I start to feel a loopy by the time we reach the apartment door. For the most part I’ve been able to walk, but now it seems hard to coordinate my feet one in front of the other. We pass a few dauntless along our way; some look concerned and a few snicker at me. 

“Don’t think this excuses you from training.” Eric’s cold voice breaks the silence, and it’s almost a relief. Here’s the Eric I’ve come to know. Head trauma or not, I know I will continue my training tomorrow. 

“Ok.” I try to smile, but it doesn’t quite work.

Eric glares at me for a second as he open the door to his apartment. 

“Why’d you even go sit with Four’s class?” The edge is back in his voice, and I follow him into the apartment. I shrug my shoulders, trying to keep my balance. 

“I didn’t know when you’d be back. Or what I was supposed to do. It seemed like a good idea.”

“Well it wasn’t.” He snaps, clenching his jaw. I make it to the living room when I start to think maybe I should have skipped the pain meds. I am now so tired I could fall asleep standing right here, and my balance is so thrown off that I’m having a hard time staying upright. 

“I’ll remember that next time. Sorry.” I apologize out of habit, and I want to curse my upbringing. I should forgive him, I suppose. I’m not exactly sure for what. It’s the Amity in me. We didn’t tend to hold grudges, and even if I wanted to, it would do me no good with Eric. I rub my eyes, trying to keep myself awake for a few more minutes. All I can think of is my bed and how nice it will feel to lie down. 

Eric shrugs off my apology. He still looks angry and I decide it’s time for me to take a nap. I guess Eric’s anger is mostly directed at my own decision to take up Four’s offer. Something about that bothers me, but I don’t have the mind set to deal with it now. I blearily make my way to the bedroom, throwing the door open and finding a small delight in how dark and cool the room is.

“Everly.” Eric calls my name out, but I ignore him. If he wants to sulk around he’ll just have to do it on his own. I kick my shoes off, followed by my shirt and leggings. I leave my tank top on, and slide into the bed. I curl myself against the cool pillows; it feels almost heavenly against my cheek. 

I can still hear Eric, somewhere in the living room. A sliver of light peaks in through the barely open door, and I squint at it. I swear its coming from the wrong angle. The painkiller must be messing with my vision. I rub my eyes before closing them completely and letting the pull of sleep wash over. I’m almost asleep when I hear Eric again, and I try to ignore the fact that he seems to creep into every aspect of my life right now. 

I need some space from him, I think dreamily. I can almost picture him in front of me, his gaze fixed on me. He’s everywhere in this apartment. So much that my sheets even smell like him, dark and spicy. 

It’s the last thing I think before I fall asleep.

 

 

When I wake up, my headache is gone but I feel as though I’ve been hit by some sort of truck. It hurts to move. My muscles protest, almost as though I’ve been asleep for a very long time. I force myself upright and shove the dark covers off of me. I go to slip off the bed when I catch my reflection in the mirror above the dresser

I took like crap. My dark hair is in every direction possible, my left eye is a little swollen and there is a dark bruise beside it. The other side look of my face looks similar; and when I squint I can make out the faint hand print wrapping around my throat. I take a second to wallow in self-pity before a wave of horror washes over me.

This isn’t my bedroom. 

My dresser is on the opposite wall. This is why the light seemed odd, why the sheets smell like Eric, and why I felt like I couldn’t escape him. Because I decided to spend the night in his bed. Dread bursts through me like wild fire. Eric will not let this go unmentioned.

I chew on my lip for a second before I try to come up with a plan. I will dress, and quickly run to my room as silently as possibly. Hopefully Eric won’t be there. If he is, I will blame my disorientation on the pain meds.

I slip into his bathroom and glare at my own reflection in the bright light. In here, the mark on my throat is more noticeable in this lighting. I splash some water on my face and slink back into his bedroom. I can’t find any of my clothes from the night before, and the thought of attempting to sprint back to my bedroom in nothing but my tank top and underwear is less than appealing. I don’t know if he’s out there, but running through his apartment half-dressed will not go over well if he is. 

My options are limited, and I decide to bite the bullet. I open one of Eric’s drawers, and I grab the first shirt I find. I slip it on over my tank top and I try not to laugh. It hits right at the bend of my knees, and one shoulder slips off to the side. It’ll work. I just need to get past him and then I will be back in my bedroom. Hopefully he’ll be too busy plotting my punishment for crashing in his bed to even be aware than I’m awake. 

I take a deep breath and open the door. The apartment is bright and empty. I make my way out of his room, and past the living room. There’s no sight of him, and I feel a little bit better. I keep going, making the quick turn. Just as I’m about to celebrate my success, I almost jump out of my skin when a hand lands on my hip. It yanks me backwards, and when I hit against the hard chest, I know I’m screwed. 

I can feel the warmth of his naked chest against my back, and his free hand finds my other hip. I’m effectively trapped against him, and the open door of my bedroom is nothing more than a few measly feet away.  
“If you wanted to sleep in my bed, Amity, all you had to do was ask.” His lips graze my ear, and I can’t help the shiver that runs through me.


	6. Handsy Eric and the War Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much to everyone wrote such a nice review for the story! I appreciate all your words. I feel like Eric is very hard to write as a character, in character. So many stories make him a giant dick who immediately turns into a ball of mush as soon as he lays eyes on someone he likes. So it means a lot to say that he's staying in character in this story!
> 
> So fair warning: This chapter is a bit long. It was originally two but I've rewritten a bit and made some small changes to my outline so you get stuck with a whole long chapter to read. I hope it doesn't seem out of whack, it helps set up some events for the next chapter. Also, I HATE reading about war games in stories. It doesn't matter who wins or loses. So my version is probably going to seem a little different.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading :) Let me know what you think!

Eric's smirk is starting to drive me insane.

It's been three days since I accidentally spent the night in his bed. Rather than the lecture about personal space and rational thinking that I would have expected from him, he's decided it would be more fun to make me squirm.

The first day after wasn't so terrible. He held me against him for a few heartbeats too long after he whispered in my ear, and upon my release I sprinted the short distance to my room. I spent the next hour in the shower alternating between hyperventilating and laughing. I slipped out later, fully dressed, only to find him still shirtless and poring over a laptop. I realized it was past noon, and I'd slept through most of the morning.

"Did you eat lunch?' I ask him, walking quietly over to the couch. I try to avert my eyes from his bare chest. And from the fact that he's wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants, slung low on his hips. I ignore his scrutiny of me, the way his eyes travel lazily over me, and the way he cocks his head to the side as his lips curl slightly.

"I didn't. I was waiting for you to get up." He raises an eyebrow at me. "I tried to wake you earlier, but you looked pretty comfortable." His gaze is full of dark amusement.

I smile at him, trying hard to quell the blood rising to my cheeks. He gives me one last look before standing and stretching. I try not to stare at him; the muscles under his skin are perfectly defined and tighten with his movements. He doesn't say anything else as he strides past me. Somehow, that's worse than if he did.

The rest of the afternoon slips by quickly. Lunch is a quiet affair. He sits just a little too close to me, and our knees bump together a few times. His fingers brush against mine as he takes my lunch tray, and he lets his hand linger on my back when he tells me I have the rest of the day free from training.

"I've got to finish up my reports on your progress. You have the afternoon free. I suggest you study or practice somewhere away from Four's class. I'll meet you for dinner later." His hand burns on my back, and he finally moves it, taking off without waiting for my response.

The second day is similar, but slightly more unnerving. I wake up to find him back on the couch, in the same pajama pants and again shirtless. I rub my eyes as I sit down next to him, trying to keep a careful amount of space between us.

"Are we done training until Monday?" I ask him as I curl my feet up underneath me. It seems as though he has given me some time off from training, but it also seems he can do whatever he wants schedule-wise, and this is probably no favor to me.

I try to stifle the yawn that escapes from my mouth. Aside from my night in his bed, I hadn't slept very well. Dauntless seems to have a lasting chill running through it, and it makes me long for the warm sunny days of Amity. Eric just taps away at the keyboard, and answers without looking at me.

"Tuesday. I've got meetings Monday." The bored tone is back, and relief washes over me. He is back to his normal self again.

I should have known better.

He scoots closer to me, and shoves the laptop in front of me.

"Look at this."

His bare skin is warm against my arm, and he presses himself right up against me, one arm resting behind me on the back of the couch. I try to stay still and not react to him. I don't want to feed into his cat-and-mouse game. Eric points to the screen, and I realize we are watching a live feed of Four's training class.

Eric smirks, watching the initiates scramble around the room. A few are good, most are decent, and a few are terrible.

His fingers graze against the back of my neck, and he leaves them there.

"I can see why you wanted to watch them. Highly entertaining," he murmurs. His fingers stroke lightly against my skin, and I grow warm at his touch.

"I thought it was a good idea." I try to defend myself. I don't want to restart the argument with him. He shifts even closer to me, and his fingers travel down, grazing over the faint mark on my neck from James.

"A good idea," he repeats, his voice low and warm. He reminds me of an animal toying with its prey before it strikes.

"Ok, so it was a dumb idea but it was better than sitting off by myself." I keep my eyes on the feed, and try to ignore Eric's fingers. I don't mind it so much; his touch actually feels nice after days of being pummeled. It's the intent behind his touch that makes my whole stomach flop from nervousness.

"Oh, did you miss me, Everly?" He almost purrs the words, and I have the sudden urge to smack him. His fingers curl for a second, almost possessively, into my hair. Then he stands abruptly, suddenly yanking his hand away from me. He stalks to his room, and reappears a few minutes later, fully dressed.

"Time to go," he announces, his mood suddenly swinging back to its normal irritated state.

He's quiet while we eat, but he sits closer than ever, his thigh pressed firmly against mine.

 

 

He wakes me up in the middle of the night by yelling my name as loudly as possible, an inch away from my face. I open my eyes to find his face above mine, his eyebrows high and a daunting smile on his face.

"War games. Get up and get dressed." He sounds excited, or what it must sound like if he finds something exciting. I've never heard this particular tone from him. He doesn't move his face, and I stare up at him from beneath my hair.

I close my eyes, and hope he will disappear and this will all be nothing more than a cruel dream. I'm finally a little warmer after finding several blankets shoved inside the closet. They made a small bit of difference and that's all that matters. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and hope he'll be kind enough to leave me alone for a few more minutes.

When I feel the covers slide off me, I know I'm out of luck.

"You got enough blankets in here, Amity? You need someone to keep you warm at night?" Eric manages to sound amused and disinterested at the same time. I sit up and push my hair out of my face. He's kicked them to the side of him, and I groan thinking of how I'm just going to have to untangle them all later.

"What are war games?" I ask sleepily. He's standing at the foot of my bed now, and his eyes are fixed on my bare legs. I await his reply and try to scramble off the bed. My eyes fall on the clock next to my bed. 12:30 AM blinks back, the red numbers mocking me.

"You'll see," he answers indifferently.

"Shouldn't I get to skip it since I'm in my own class? Although it sounds really fun," I mumble, in hopes of getting him to divulge some sort of information about these games. Or maybe excuse me altogether. There has to be some perk to having him train me. He doesn't fall for it. He merely stares at me for a moment, a smug grin on his face, and then stalks towards me until he's right in front of me. I'm eye level with his chest again, and I tilt my head up to look at him.

"I'm glad you think so," he tells me, his eyes boring into mine. "If you think you got lucky having me as your trainer, you're wrong. You're gonna wish Four was here to hold your hand through this exercise."

 

 

Eric eats his words an hour later when Four calls out my name to be on his team.

I obediently head towards his side of the train, and I can feel the stares of everyone in the car. I stand next to Four, whose face is wearing a wide, shit-eating grin. "Nice to have you on our team, Everly." He emphasizes my name, and as much as I'm trying to avoid Eric's hard stare, I can see him clench his jaw out of the corner of my eye.

I listen to Four and Eric divide up the remaining initiates. Some of the ones that head towards me scowl in my direction, but a few throw out anxious smiles. One of them, almost as tall and big as Eric, smiles widely and claps me on the shoulder. I try to keep my balance and not stagger forward. I don't need them thinking I can't even stay upright.

"Game's simple. It's like Capture the Flag." Four begins announcing the game and its rules, and I glance towards Eric's team. I know very few of them, but I notice they seem excited to be standing next to him. Some of them sneer at me, as though it is some sort of triumph to be on Eric's team. I find him in the crowd, and I'm unsurprised to find his cold gaze on me. We lock eyes, and for a minute neither of us looks away. From this distance, Eric is striking. He is large and menacing; the black collar of his leader's jacket is sharply popped up, and his shorn hair makes him look all the more powerful. His eyes darken as they stare into mine, and I watch as he seems to bite down on the inside of his cheek.

I get the feeling he wasn't expecting Four to dare and pick me for his team. His eyes still don't leave mine, and he looks downright unhappy in the middle of the train. Funny, he's surrounded by a group of initiates who've been chomping at the bit to even be around him, and Eric looks like he'd rather be anywhere but on this train. I would have thought he'd like their attention, even relished in their admiration of him as their chosen fearless leader.

Four finally stops his speech to let Eric explain the guns we'll be using. I find myself curious about the darts, but when Eric demonstrates how they work by shooting some whiny guy next to him, I keep my questions to myself.

"Alright, this is it! Line up!" Four yells. Eric watches him with utter loathing behind his eyes, and motions for Four to exit.

"Your team can get off first," he snarls.

Four merely nods, and I join his group in preparation for the jump. The wind howls as the train slows slightly, and before I know it, it's just Four and me left to jump.

He flashes me a jubilant smile, and I know he's enjoying every second of this. "Ready, Everly?"

I nod at him, and watch as he readies himself. He lands easily, and I'm just about to take off when I feel fingers brush against mine. I jerk my head back to find Eric and his group lining up behind me. He's so close to me his hand grazes mine every time he shifts.

"Good luck, Amity," he scoffs viciously. I throw him a small smile and hop off the train and land awkwardly next to Four. He helps me up; he offers up his hand, and I gracelessly pull myself upright.

"Thanks," I tell him, wiping my palms on my jacket. The night is downright freezing, and the jacket does little to keep me warm.

"No problem," he grins. He turns to the group and motions for them to follow him. I have no idea where we are, so I continue after them blindly. I wonder if he's taken his group out here before. We are in the middle of the city, but I have no idea in which faction. Large buildings surround what seems to be a long park, and there are lots of little nooks to disappear into. The night air is bone-chilling, and the only saving grace is that the high buildings seem to block some of the wind.

"Ok, plan of action. Anyone got any ideas? We don't have a lot of time." Four's voice is stern, and I realize I barely know him. I've spent all of maybe two hours with him. He stands tall beside me, his hands in his pockets. He's relaxed out here, different from the training room. His team argues back and forth for a few minutes, until the boy that reminds me of Eric interrupts them.

"We hide the flag on Everly. They won't suspect she's got it. We split up and search for their flag, while Everly and Four can hunker down somewhere with a good vantage point. Then we take out their team one by one." He flashes me a self-assured smile, but it's harmless. I find myself liking him instantly. He's built like a tank, and he's obviously smarter than half of them here.

Four considers the plan before shrugging indifferently. "Everyone ok with that?" There are a few discontented murmurs, but no one speaks up. Four hands me the flag, a glowing square of fabric, and I shove it into my jacket pocket. "Then let's move out."

 

 

By the time the night sky starts to lighten marginally, I'm certain I will most likely die from hypothermia. I shiver at my spot in the lookout; it's really nothing more than some rundown playground equipment, but I'm curled up in the top of the tower and it's better than running through the city and trying not to get shot. It's been mostly quiet, aside from Four and his small talk.

"You're doing really well with your training." His voice is quiet in the night, and I pull my arms tighter around my waist in an attempt to stay warm. We've been sitting here for hours now, our backs against the cold wall.

"Thanks," I tell him. "How do you know?" I wonder if he and Eric ever talk about the training classes. I don't think I really count as my own class, but who knows. I can't picture Eric discussing anything with Four; Eric seems to utterly despise him.

Four turns to me, surprise on his face. "The rankings. You know you're ranked with my class, right?" I cock my head at him, trying to remember if Eric has ever mentioned anything about them. Maybe he has, but I can't recall any sort of conversation about it. It doesn't help that my limbs are freezing and I feel like my brain is as well.

"He may have mentioned them. But he hasn't said anything about them lately." I shake my head at him, and shift uncomfortably. "I'm not even sure what I'm ranked."

"Of course you aren't," Four laughs. "I think if Eric had his way, he'd just keep you in the dark about everything."

"What do you mean?" I ask him.

He shrugs at me. "He seems to like you being dependent on him."

I roll my eyes, but I doubt Four can see me in the early morning. I don't want to crush Four's bonding moment here, but I'm near death and I'm utterly bored after sitting here with him for hours on end. It's enough to make me wish Eric was here with me. At least he would have kept me alert. Or made me punch him to stay warm.

"I'm not dependent on him," I throw out. "He's just been forced to train me."

"He's not forced to have you stay in his apartment," Four counters back. My cheeks burn at the implication behind his words, and I'm grateful for the dark. I don't have an answer for that one. "When I'm not overseeing the training, I work up in the control room. I can see where you go after class, you know."

"That's where…I'm supposed to be staying. Remember? You thought the guys in your class would murder me in my sleep?" Those might not have been his words exactly, but I can feel myself growing annoyed at him. It shouldn't matter to him that I'm staying with Eric. I'm still putting in just as much work as Four's class. Probably more work. "It was your idea." I hug my knees now, and I make a silent wish that everyone is almost done being shot so we can head back to Dauntless.

"It was never my idea for you to stay in Eric's apartment," Four mutters. He jerks his head suddenly, and I listen as the sound of boots hitting the pavement grows closer.

"They're here."

I say a silent prayer of thanks, and I move to settle on my knees.

"Get down," Four hisses, shoving me back down. "You need to stay hidden."

I lean back against the wall and groan. "This is the most pointless exercise I've ever participated in. I think I might have learned more from one of Eric's…" I don't get the chance to finish my sentence. The voices begin yelling louder, and Four fires from our hideout. He's unprepared when Eric's team suddenly storms our small tower. The only way down is the ladder leading up here, and we are trapped without any hope of escape. Two of the boys from Eric's team glower at us, and I hear their guns fire.

Miraculously, no one hits me, but Four catches the brunt of it. I'm sure it hurts worse at such a close range; I have no desire to find out. I stand up slowly, palms in the air.

The two guys in front of me are grinning like idiots. The aim their guns at me, but their posture relaxes slightly.

"Come with us," one of them tells me. I think his name is Ryan. I watch them carefully, and step around Four the best I can.

"Sorry, Four," I tell him softly.

"No! Don't go with them. Shoot them, Everly!" he yells, trying to pull the darts out of his limbs. Judging by the large number of darts in his skin, he's going to be stuck here for at least a couple of minutes. I shake my head and begin my descent. The sooner this game is over, the sooner Eric can gloat that his team won and I can crawl back underneath my covers. Four calls my name again; I ignore him, and when my boots hit the ground I jump at the voice behind me.

"It's really good to see you again."

Eric is standing there as the sun begins to burst onto the horizon behind him. This isn't the first sunrise we've shared together, but this might just be my least favorite. I sigh and smile at him. His goons are gone now, probably off to join the rest of their team and celebrate their impending victory.

"Hi, Eric."

He smirks at me, his eyes almost sparkling in the early morning light. "Hi, Everly. Hand over the flag."

I shake my head and smile sweetly. "Sorry, I don't have it." Despite my hatred for this game, I don't want to just hand the flag over to him. Eric takes a step closer to me, and I take a step backwards.

"I think you do." His tone changes to something low and deadly, and I bite my lip for a second. The thought of shooting him flashes through my mind, but he closes the distance between us before I can decide if I'm that brave.

My back hits the ladder to the tower, and I'm officially trapped. He steps closer, his torso coming into contact against mine; one of his hands closes around my hip.

"I'm not going to ask again." He bends his head down to me, and his lips purposely graze my ear when he hisses his words. I try to keep still, but my heart is beating too fast and too loudly. His free hand grabs a hold of my jacket, and he pulls me impossibly closer to him.

"Everly." I swear he nuzzles the side of my ear now, and I can't breathe. He pulls back, meeting my stare, and his free hand finds its way to my hair. He slides his fingers underneath the sloppy ponytail, and he threads his fingers into my hair, tugging on it until I'm all but forced to look up at him.

"Are you afraid?" His eyes are dark in the light, and he's so close to me that if I tilted my head just a tiny bit more, my lips would brush against his. I feel him move closer, and his hand leaves my hip.

"No," I answer, my voice sounding much smaller than normal. He tightens his grip on my hair. "What do I get if I give you the flag?"

His smirk gives way to a rare grin that reveals his teeth. He laughs, and from up above I can hear Four swearing at the sound.

"She doesn't have the flag! Everly, shoot him!" Four's voice barks from above, and I can hear him struggling to stand.

I roll my eyes and Eric seems entertained.

"Four's really into this game, isn't he?" I set my eyes back on Eric. "If I were to have the flag and I handed it over to you, would I maybe get to sleep in for the rest of today?"

Eric tilts his head to the side, and I watch as his face flashes something akin to enjoyment. "You spend one night in my bed and now you think you get to call the shots," Eric muses. My eyes widen, and my mouth opens the tiniest bit at his remark.

Eric smirks widely now. His fingers suddenly lessen their grip in my hair, and he takes a step back.

"Thanks, Amity." He winks at me, and waves the flag in the air.

My mouth drops for a second, and I realize he has somehow taken the flag from me. My hand flies to my pocket, but I come up empty-handed.

Above me, Four lets out a string of curse words.

 

 

Despite arriving back at Dauntless sometime after seven in the morning, I am wide awake. Eric has some sort of appointment, so I'm stuck on the couch with a stack of books. I'm tempted to sneak off and take a nap, but I seem to have disastrous results when it comes to choosing a place to lie down. I don't need to find that in my sleep-deprived state I've curled myself up in Eric's bed for the second time.

I try to keep my attention on the book in front of me, some large tome about how to deal with one's deepest fears. It appears to be some sort of psychology-based textbook. It outlines several ways to help control your breathing, alternative methods of distraction, and coping mechanisms for post-traumatic situations. Some of it confuses me; I don't see how it's relevant to anything I've been doing, and I fail to see how this will help me during the second stage.

Especially since I don't even know what the second stage is.

I can't remember what time Eric said he would be back, but by 10:00 AM I'm starting to feel claustrophobic and antsy. I decide it's time for a break. I quickly shower and change out of my pajamas. I stare at my dresser and try to find something to wear.

Dauntless members have this effortless way of looking like they belong here. Their clothes are usually dark and fitted, often revealing. I have plenty of dark training clothes, and a few extra shirts and leggings. I frown as I stare at the clothes in my drawers. They are the exact opposite of Amity's flowing dresses and skirts. I cringe, remembering Eric's glare at my pink sundress. That's still here, shoved in the bottom drawer like some dark secret. I finally settle on a loose-fitting black shirt and a pair of leggings.

I head out of Eric's apartment and try to find the stores Christina had mentioned. I wander down the hallways and find my way to the third floor. It must be my lucky day; I see her walking along with a girl I don't know. The girl smiles at me with disinterest until Christina says my name.

"Everly! No training today?"

I smile, shaking my head. "Eric had an appointment this morning." Christina's short-haired friend's gaze snaps to me, interest piqued.

"You're training with Eric?" Her eyes are wide and curious now. She looks slightly displeased.

"I am." I find myself feeling a little apprehensive of her.

"Well that's awfully…safe," the girl mumbles before turning to Christina. "I've gotta head back to the control room. I'll see you at dinner?"

Christina nods and smiles. "Bye, Tris." She turns to me, her face breaking into a wide smile. "What do you have planned now?"

"I'm trying to find that store you were talking about." Christina's face lights up.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm in a fitting room with Christina while she helps me adjust the straps on a dress. It's close to a sundress, tiny straps and a skirt that flares out, but it's black. It hits below my knees, and I feel almost like myself in it. Christina smiles and takes a step back.

"It's perfect!" she announces. "It looks good against your skin." I frown in the mirror at her comment. When I first arrived at Dauntless, I was fairly tan. We always spent a lot of time outside in Amity, and my skin always had a golden hue to it. My time in the outdoors at Dauntless, however, has been minimal at best.

"I look kinda pale," I tell her. I stand sideways, and critique my reflection. Christina shakes her head at me like I just told her I was from another planet.

"You look fine."

Half an hour later, I have an armful of new clothes, new shampoo and conditioner that doesn't smell like Eric, several pairs of shoes, and some nail polish. I'm not sure why the nail polish is important, but Christina refuses to let us leave without it.

I change at the store, leaving in a pretty, soft, black skirt and a dark grey tank top. I put my hair back up in a bun, and happily head to the desk. The woman waves me away, explaining I have more than enough points for everything. It's no surprise to me that I have little knowledge of the point system. The lady only laughs at my confused look and shoos me away.

"Even if you don't, she'll just take them from Eric's points," Christina informs me. I'm not sure how she knows this, but my stomach knots up for a second. I don't know if Eric would be thrilled to cover any sort of debt that I might rack up.

"Doesn't he need his points for his own things?" I ask Christina. She shrugs at me before making a face.

"Like what? More hair gel?" She snorts next to me and I feel myself giggle a bit. I've seen his hair in the mornings. It's strangely not as straight as it looks when he's done slicking it back.

"Lunch?" I look at Christina. It's not really a question with her. I nod, happily walking with her back to the mess hall. After finding something that looks appealing, we sit at a quiet table.

"Has Eric talked to you about your fear landscape yet?" she asks after her bite of hamburger. I poke at mine aimlessly with a fork. I'm not a huge fan of hamburgers, but nothing else seemed to be a better option.

"No, I don't even know what that is." I finally take a bite of my hamburger, and watch Christina's expression change to surprise.

"Really? I'm surprised Eric didn't drag you down there to be the first one." She stops, her hamburger in mid-air. "They inject you with a serum and you work through your worst fears. All of them." She lets out a small shiver. "It's awful."

"Great." I mumble, my appetite vanishing. "I wonder why he didn't tell me." I set my fork down, and suddenly my skin pricks as though he's behind me. I wonder if I've developed a sixth sense to tell me when Eric's around. I glance around expecting to find his piercing glare, but I don't see him anywhere.

"He probably thrives off the element of surprise. Or maybe he just wants to make it even worse for you." Christina looks sympathetic now.

I frown at my plate. Eric hasn't really made my training any worse. He's been aggressive with it, but it's not anything I can't handle. "I don't know." I shrug at her. "I'm not sure why he hasn't told me about it."

"Because that would be against the rules. Or because you've already prepped for it and I don't foresee it being a huge problem for you." His voice comes from behind me, cold and nasty as ever. "Or did you forget everything you've been studying?" He sounds pissed off, and while it's nothing new, I feel a little thrown off by it. He's shifted back into his cold self, right before my eyes.

He slides into the seat next to me, his arm against mine and his gaze fixed on Christina. "You can go now."

Her eyes widen and she looks insulted. "Excuse me, I'm not done eating."

Eric cocks his head, and his stare must be something awful because she suddenly stands and picks up her plate. "Fine. Good luck, Everly." She smiles at me, and makes a face at Eric. She gives me one final glance before she moves to the other side of the hall and sits down next to some girls I don't know.

"Aren't you supposed to be studying?" Eric pushes his shoulder into mine, and I meet his eyes. He looks as annoyed as ever.

"I just needed a break. I studied all morning. I'm tired. And I wanted to get out for a minute." I turn to face him, really face him now. "I didn't think I couldn't take a break to eat." I wait for him to yell at me that he knows I've been gone longer than lunch, but it doesn't come. Instead he just stares at me, his gaze so intense that I feel trapped.

"I never said you couldn't eat." His eyes narrow. "You just don't need to be traipsing around with the likes of her." He turns to completely face me now, his chest almost pressed against mine. "You need to focus on your training." His words sound harsh in my ears.

Frustration boils up in me. I've been focused, more focused than anyone in the other classes. I feel my hands ball into fists even though punching him is the last thing I would actually do.

"I am focused!" I hiss at him. "Maybe if you didn't spend all your free time distracting me…" The words are out of my mouth and his smirk tells me he's pleased that I'm onto him. I shake my head. "It's not funny, Eric. I want to pass initiation."

"Oh, you'll pass initiation. No initiate of mine will fail." There is an emphasis on the word mine, and I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from him. His gaze only intensifies. "Eat your lunch. We have work to do after." He's still facing me, and I watch as his gaze falls very briefly to my lips before flashing back to my eyes.

"Unless you're too distracted."

 

 

His hips crush into mine, and he places his hands on either side of my head.

"Harder." He growls at me. His weight atop me is heavy, and I am trapped beneath his solid form. I try to move in any direction, but it's all but hopeless.

You chose this, I remind myself.

To make up for the days that he let me take off after James tried to singlehandedly kill me, Eric has decided to up the training game. He gleefully informed me we had days to make up, and they would have to be crammed in before we finished the first session. 5:00 AM comes so much earlier when my only breaks in the day are to eat and crawl into my bed before passing out.

The training room is empty at this early hour, and I'm grateful that none of Four's class is around to see me struggle right now. A few weeks ago I would haven't have been able to throw a decent punch at him, but now I can more or less hold my own. Though my progress in the training has been huge, I'm still unable to shake Eric off of me. His full weight on top of me isn't making it easy to break free from him. He reclines himself back, and I'm pinned down by his hips and legs.

I try to shove him off me, knowing full well it will be useless. He snickers at my attempt, and I ball my fist to punch at him. He blocks it easily, and pins my arms down by my sides.

"You seem to like this position, Amity." His voice is full of suggestive undertones, and I make the last minute decision to take a page out of his own book.

"So do you," I answer him innocently. A look of sudden surprise flashes across his face, but it's fleeting. His usual glare returns as he rises up from his position easily, releasing me from beneath him. I push myself upright, and onto my feet. I watch as he stalks away before he picks up his tablet and squints at it before typing something. He looks bored when he turns back around.

"Head to the roof."

 

 

I finish putting the rifle and scope together before anyone from Four's class.

I was pleasantly surprised to find them all on the roof. They pay little attention to my arrival; most of them have an aura of panic about them and I realize it comes from the large pile of rifles that sit before them. I feel the tiniest bit superior: Eric's gun training has been much more in depth than what Four has been able to offer. In his defense, he does have more students, but even if he had half as many I doubt they would have been trained as intensely as I have been.

"Three minutes," Four calls out. I watch them scramble, trying to peek at each other's weapons in a desperate attempt to finish. Eric is inspecting mine, and he nods in approval.

"Over here." I follow him to the wall, and peer out over the city. There are targets dotting the tops of several buildings nearby. Most seem obnoxiously far away, but I know better than to worry. The rifles are for long range shooting. Eric adjusts the rifle for a moment, and motions for me to come over to him. He's left me a tiny space in front of the wall, and I step in front of him knowing full well what is coming next.

His hands are warm on mine, and the feeling of his arms around me is familiar. He presses himself unnecessarily close to me, his chest flush against my back, and his words are low enough for only me to hear.

"You're to hit every target I tell you to."

It doesn't matter that there's not a soul next to us that could possibly hear him. He makes sure we are pressed closely together, his lips on my ear in a more intimate manner than just someone giving directions. He doesn't seem to care, nor does he seem to care that we probably make quite the sight in this position. He keeps his arms tight around me, and his body against mine. I let his words sink in for a minute before I nod my head.

"Ok." I swallow. I turn my head to meet his stare. "Are you going to help me?" I'm slightly confused as to why he's still so close to me. I've proven I can shoot a gun; the rifle is larger and heavier, but not impossible for me to hold. He meets my stare, his gaze serious.

"Only if you need it. But I don't think you will," he answers simply. He shifts his arms, moving mine more to the side, and I aim at the first target.

"Before you shoot, steady yourself. Make sure you're focused on exactly where you want the bullet to hit." It's hard to focus with him around me like this. The past few days have bordered on torturous. Something almost dizzying has shifted between us. It curls around my brain without my consent, giving way to all kinds of unconscious reactions from me. His constant touching and subtle teasing has done nothing more than make my insides twist pleasantly. My stomach should drop at his menacing glares, but instead it flutters when we make eye contact.

I bite down hard on my lip, and look through the scope.

I hit the first three targets. Not dead center, but on the target and it seems to be acceptable to Eric. Behind me, I can hear the faint yelling of Four to his class. They still haven't all assembled their guns, and I can hear him shouting at someone not to point the gun at their friend.

Eric kicks my legs apart, and I nearly lose my balance save for his arms holding me upright against him. "Down there. Aim for those three." He's pointing to a set of targets on a roof that's off to the side, a few good stories down from us. I have to bend over the edge of the railing slightly, angling myself forward to make sure I'm in range.

Eric adjusts his stance as well, and just as I am about to fire the first shot of three, he presses his hips forward against me.

"I like this position much better."

His words are a lazy drawl, slow and teasing.

I miss the target completely.

He laughs from behind me, loud and pleased with himself.

"Again, Amity. This time, try aiming at what you want to shoot."

I finish my round of shooting and Four's class still isn't quite done putting their weapons together. He throws us a frustrated glance as we make our way past his class. Eric ignores him, but I smile at him, trying to appear sympathetic. Behind him, someone yelps as they drop the scope and something shatters.

"Enjoy your afternoon," Four tells us unenthusiastically, and he rubs at his forehead. I can tell he's going to be there for a while.

 

 

"What happens if I don't pass it? Or if they find something?" I know I am pestering Eric, but I can't help it. I continue my inquisition during the whole walk over, but he merely shrugs. He'd only informed me minutes ago that I needed to undergo some sort of physical examination before the next stage of training. He hadn't explained anything else. "What if they find something horribly wrong and I can't go on?"

"Then I guess you'll be factionless." His words drip with exasperation. He nearly shoves me through the clinic door, and I am greeted by an older woman named Arlene. She is almost as tall as Eric, and her short grey hair is spiked up all over her head. She's holding up a clipboard and she glances down quickly. She then peers over her glasses at me, her eyes taking me in.

"Everly Coulter?" Arlene is squinting at me, confusion on her face. It's probably on mine as well, but the real winner of this conversation is Eric. His face is contorted into something akin to mild panic.

"That's not my last name," I inform her, putting my hands on my hips. "My last name is Carlen."

Arlene is unimpressed and purses her lips. "Doesn't really matter. And it's too late to change it. Come with me." She throws Eric a glare that rivals his own. "You as well."

The nurse makes me sit on a cot and take off my jacket and boots. I find myself slightly uncomfortable on the small bed, but it has more to do with Eric's presence in the corner. He's busied himself with his tablet again, slumped over in an attempt to find a comfortable position in the small chair at the end of the room. Even though he appears lost in his work, I know he's paying careful attention.

Arlene snaps on a pair of rubber gloves and picks up some sort of medical equipment. I look at it curiously. Amity isn't big on medical procedures. The biggest medical emergency I ever had was when a chicken pecked my finger a little too sharply. Arlene's voice breaks into my thoughts.

"You know why you're here, right?" She's only slightly more patient than Eric.

I nod at her hoping this will be quick. "Let's get started then."

Fifteen minutes later Arlene is scrawling a few notes onto a chart, and her head tilts at me. "Everything looks good. You're set to be inoculated today. Should you continue on in the training, we'll finish up your second round of shots after the second session." I don't know what an inoculation is, so I merely nod my head and smile. I hope it's painless.

She meets my eyes for a second, and glances down at the paper in front of her, and her expression changes.

"Are you sexually active?" Her voice is so low now that I can't hear her at all. I look at her curiously and she repeats it in the exact same whisper as before.

"What?" I ask her, swinging my bare feet back and forth. I want her to hurry up so I can be done with this already. Eric hasn't mentioned anything planned after this visit, and I'm hoping his only plans involve this day being over.

"Have you had sex before?" She practically yells it, and Eric's head snaps in my direction, a fascinated look blossoming across his face.

For a brief moment, he and I lock eyes. His stare has changed into something practically animalistic, and I can tell he's eagerly awaiting my answer. Arlene steps in front of me, annoyed that her question is still unanswered.

"I said…" she starts off and I interrupt her, trying to figure out a way to dissolve into a million pieces and slide off this table.

"I have," I answer her quietly. I focus only on her face, and I'm sure mine is as red as can be. I'm not embarrassed that I've had sex. In fact, aside from Dauntless, Amity is probably the least sexually conservative faction. I'd been taught from a young age that sex is a healthy part of any relationship. I can remember my mother explaining there was nothing shameful about sharing myself with someone I loved.

I'm more embarrassed that I have to admit it in front of the man who's spent most of the day pressing himself against me from behind.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Eric. He's sitting perfectly still, his head cocked to the side. His lips are pressed together, and his eyes are narrowed in my direction. From this angle I can see the outline of his brow bone and the glint of his piercings.

Arlene pauses with her pen at the top of the page. "Coulter, out of the room."

Eric's gaze snaps over to her, and I watch him jut out his chin in defiance at her order. I smile at him brightly; it seems he doesn't quite have authority over everyone here.

"Now." Arlene's voice is stern. He squares his shoulders as he stands and flashes her an unfriendly smile before his eyes meet mine again. I swallow at his stare, and his eyes lazily flick over me before he's out the door.

Arlene rubs at her forehead, a mirror image of Four's earlier exasperation. "Please tell me it's consensual."

My head jerks up at her. "What?"

"You and Eric. Please tell me he's not pressuring you into anything." She stops to stare right into my eyes. "Look, you're young. I get it. You're trying to make it here, it's probably lonely and you're emotionally run down. And I know you and Eric spend a lot of time together. But don't let him bully you into anything with him. I've heard about your scores. You're gonna do just fine here with or without his help."

I sit on the table in shock. I know her speech is meant to empower me; instead, I only feel a flash of defensive irritation. While Eric might be cold and uninterested in nearly everything, he doesn't quite seem like the type to force me to sleep with him to advance my ranking. Deep down I know that if I told him no, to remove his hands from my neck or to stop touching me, he would. I'm not sure if I'm more irritated at her for thinking I would sleep my way through the rankings or because she thinks Eric would do something like that.

"I'm not having sex with Eric. Nor has he even remotely tried to get me to do anything other than to make it through this training." My words come with a biting tone, and Arlene looks startled at my outburst. I want to be off this table now. I want to shove my feet back into my boots and head back to Eric's apartment. I want to sit on his couch and eat cake and listen to him tell me all the things that he thinks Four does wrong during his training classes.

"You don't have to be afraid to talk to me. I'm here to listen if you need someone to open up to. Eric's got a lot of power around here. I know that's appealing to some people," Arlene tells me. I stare at her wide-eyed. She must be losing her mind in her advanced age.

"It's interesting that his last name is listed as your last name." Arlene's stare is curious now.

"Don't worry, we aren't already secretly married. I'm sure it's a typo," I tell her, trying very hard to not roll my eyes. I try to picture Eric's face had he still been in the room. I imagine it contorting into disgust at the thought of marrying someone from Amity.

Arlene doesn't look like she believes me.

"Can I go now?" I ask her.

Arlene takes off her glasses and closes her eyes for a mere second.

"I just need to add something to your order. It'll just take a few minutes." She checks off a box on the clipboard, and my eyes try to read it quickly, but she takes the chart away with her.

A few minutes later, my arm is sore and there are three bandages on it. The surprise was on me when inoculations turned out to be vaccinations administered through a sharp needle.

"You'll need to come back in three months." Arlene hands me my jacket, and looks at me over her glasses. "Your birth control shot only lasts that long. It takes a few days to kick in, by the way. You and Eric…" she pauses looking directly at me. "Or you and whoever will need to use a backup method for the next few days to avoid an unwanted pregnancy." I officially want to die. I plaster a smile on my face and pretend she didn't just tell me any of what she just said.

"Thank you. I'll let him know." I slip off the table and hastily throw my jacket on before I hurry out of the clinic. I practically sprint out the door and smack right into Eric's chest.

 

 

If Eric seemed to get some sort of joy out of making me squirm before, this must be the best day of his life.

His hands find my arms and he pulls me away from his chest and keeps me right in front of him. His smile is wide across his face; the rare and deadly version. He quirks his eyebrow at me, his brow bone becoming more pronounced at the action. He really does have nice features.

"Well, how did it go?" He has the same cheerful tone to his voice when he told me my knife throwing was pathetic. His hands are still on my arms, but now they cup the back of my arms, keeping me facing towards him.

"Great." I smile at him, trying to think of how to get out of this conversation. I'm desperate enough to consider mentioning Four's name. "It went really great. She said I never have to go back."

"Oh, did she." His tone tells me he knows otherwise. His head tilts to the side, and he shrugs his shoulders at me. "Anything else?"


	7. Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, BK2U for taking the time to edit this!
> 
> I've gone through and updated/ replaced all of the chapters with the new edited versions.

I manage to avoid Eric's curious stare the entire way back to his apartment.

I keep waiting for the next biting remark or darkly teasing words, but they never come. He seems a bit lost in his own thoughts, halfway between irritation and distraction. He holds his tension in his jaw, and the muscle seems to twitch as he flings the door open.

I watch him throw a folder onto his counter, and shrug out of his uniform jacket. He takes it with him, making a silent beeline for his bedroom. I hear his door slam shut, and I use his departure to my advantage.

The folder sits unattended on Eric's kitchen counter, silently calling out to me to open it.

It seems rather out of character for both him and the entire Dauntless faction — a manila paper folder with my name neatly written across the top of it. After watching Eric type away endlessly on his tablet, the printed hard copy seems a bit outdated. Amity isn't exactly on the cutting edge of technology, but even Johanna does most of her work on the computer.

My fingers pry the folder open, and a small thrill of excitement runs through me.

Snooping through my own file is hardly an act of bravery, but the prospect of snooping and potentially getting caught by Eric is. I flip through the pages aimlessly. They are my medical records, unsurprisingly drab and incomplete. Amity rarely uses nurses and doctors. We have several aides who are somewhat more trained than the average family member, though they typically offer only home remedies or very mild pain reducers. Any more pressing issues require travel to Erudite, and most Amity would politely turn down that offer given the choice.

I skim over Arlene's notes. There is a list of vaccines I have been given, a list of several more with a suggested future date next to them, and a list of medications recommended for me. In my case, she's offered up a multivitamin. Thrilling.

I flip to the final page of the papers. It's a recap of my visit and at the very bottom is Eric's neat signature. He has surprisingly immaculate handwriting, as though he spent a lot of time practicing it. I go to close the folder, disappointed in its contents, when I find one final paper, folded up and lodged in between a few of the heavier pages. It's Arlene's examination sheet.

At the very top of the page is a section to be filled out by the trainers: Patient Information. In Eric's very neat handwriting is my name, only it's written as Everly Coulter.

No wonder Arlene didn't believe me.

I stare at the words until they are burned into my mind.

 

 

"If you can learn to control your heart rate, isn't that cheating? What would the point of the simulation be?" I ask Eric between bites of my macaroni and cheese. Eric shakes his head, stabbing his fork at his steak with much more force than necessary.

"No," he answers shortly. He's been in full Eric the Dauntless leader mode since we returned. He had reappeared from his bedroom freshly showered and had headed straight to the kitchen without acknowledging me. I have to remind myself that I'm in his territory, and he does have a job to do. I try not to take it personally, but I'm reminded of the first time I met him and his chilly demeanor.

"It's how you work through it." Eric seems uninterested in my questions, and very interested in his food.

I stare at him while he eats.

His hair is now slightly longer than when I first came to Dauntless; it's slicked back on the sides and curls at the top of his shirt collar. I try not to smile while thinking of him taking the time to try to force it into submission. His brow is furrowed, as he intensely concentrates on his dinner. His lips are full, and I find myself wondering if they are as soft as they look.

His eyes flash up to mine, and I swear the man has some sort of ESP.

"Do you need something, Amity?" His voice holds the same authoritative, bored tone that I've become well acquainted with, one unique to Eric. I want to ask him what on Earth possessed him to write his last name as mine, but judging from his posture and his dark scowl, this is not the time.

I push my salad around my plate. "When we will start the second part of training?"

"Tomorrow," he answers without much emotion.

I take a bite of my macaroni, and he finally drags his attention away from his fascinating cut of meat. "Four will assist with the simulation. You'll sit with his class until it's your turn. Try not to get into any fights while you're waiting," he informs me dryly.

I shrug at him. "I can't make any promises, Coulter."

His head snaps back in my direction, and I instantly feel hot. I should know better, but I can't help it. I get a secret thrill out of getting a rise out of him, and I wonder if he feels the same.

"Cute," he snarls at me.

I find myself smiling, really honestly smiling for the first time since I chose Dauntless.

"I'm glad you are finding this so funny." He is unamused, and he's staring at me, his expression bordering on something close to murder.

"I won't fight anyone, Eric. I promise." I meet his eyes, and my smile vanishes. He looks serious again, almost severe now. "I'll keep to myself." The words taste somewhat bitter in my mouth. I've always been fairly social by nature, and this is the first time in my life I've had no one to really confide in. While Eric has done wonders for my training, he's hardly the type with whom I can have a heart to heart.

I stand up, and his eyes follow me. "Thank you for dinner," I tell him softly. I get up and head towards the kitchen, and try to ignore the flinch in his posture as I step past him with my full plate.

 

 

Eric brushes my hair off my neck while his eyes bore into mine.

They are a light grey now, and his eyelashes are surprisingly long.

"It will take a few minutes to go into effect. Don't panic, just go with whatever happens." His words are quiet, and his fingers linger over my exposed skin. I jump slightly at the needle; the liquid inside burns hot under my skin. It takes a second before I start to feel a little lightheaded, and I can see Eric in front of me. His finger runs over the injection site, and he opens his mouth to say something, but it's completely mumbled.

The simulation is unnerving.

Everything is so disturbingly real that I almost can't handle it. I wake up from it with a jolt. My limbs shake uncontrollably, and I feel as though I can't catch my breath.

"Relax, Everly. It's over now." Four's voice is quiet, almost soothing. I can hear him typing away at the computer. "You did really well."

Eric is nowhere to be found, and I find myself scanning the room for him. "Where's Eric?" I ask before I can help myself. "Why isn't he in here?" I'm shocked that he isn't standing next to me, ready to analyze every single second of the simulation.

Four frowns at the mention of Eric's name, his fingers hovering over the keys of the keyboard. "He had a small issue to take care of with Max." I nod, trying to keep myself still in the chair.

I can still see my parents' faces, bloodied and lifeless against the ground, and the feel of the gun pressed to my temple, the cold metal digging into my skin. There are more images in my head, but they bring up too many emotions and I try to push them back down. I manage to stand up, and my head feels dizzy.

Four frowns again. "Take it easy, you might feel a bit out of it for a few hours. You have the rest of the afternoon off, unless Eric's given you something else to do."

I shake my head at him. Eric had left no instructions. He'd been practically mute while he dragged me through the hallways to reach the sim room, where we met up with Four's class. I want to say I heard him mutter good luck before I went under the simulation, but that's probably just wishful thinking.

"Thanks, Four." I smile at him, and he meets my eyes. His smile is wide and real, the exact opposite of Eric's smirks. It catches me off guard. I'm spending too much time around Eric to remember what proper human emotion is. I head out of the small room, and pass a few initiates from Four's class sitting along the wall. A few of them are sniffling, and one of the guys throws me a nasty look.

I continue past them silently, and walk back to the only place I know to go.

 

 

Eric wakes me up by shoving my shoulder roughly, then pulling on the ends of my ponytail.

"Amity." I can hear him muttering, and I try to shove him away with my eyes shut. I'm unsuccessful; he only continues shaking my shoulder, and I keep my eyes shut.

"Go away. I'm tired," I mumble into the pillow, and try to swat at him again. The fear simulation took a lot more out of me than I'd expected. I hadn't planned on lying down, but by the time I'd made it back to the apartment, I'd felt more exhausted than if I'd spent the entire morning training with Eric. I'd shrugged off my boots and sweater, and thrown myself onto the bed.

"Everly." Eric's voice is exasperated now, and dripping with disdain. I still don't open my eyes. He's probably in here to inform me how mediocre I performed during the simulation. Or how average my time was. Or how he completed the simulation in forty seconds and only had half a fear. For a long minute he sighs. His hand leaves my shoulder, and I quietly celebrate the fact that I've won this round.

The bed suddenly dips under his weight, and my eyes fly open. He's stretched out beside me — much too close to me — with his hands behind his head and his feet crossed at his ankles. My heart stutters for a second, and I hope he can't hear it. Gone is the vest and dark shirt he'd had on at lunch; instead, he lies next to me in nothing but a pair of black boxers. They sit just below his bare hip bones. His chest is even more defined now that I'm this close to him, his exposed skin much paler than I would have expected.

"What are you doing?" I manage to raise myself up a bit and stare at him. A piece of hair is in my eyes, free from my messy braid, long and tangled from sleep. I shove it out of my eyes. His head turns to me, almost lazily, his lips curling upwards.

"Going to sleep," he drawls at me. He's watching me with great interest now, and I feel myself grow irritated. I thought he might be done teasing me, but apparently not.

"Get out," I snap at him.

"No," he retorts. He adjusts his position a bit, and I try to ignore the way his muscles shift as he moves.

"This isn't funny. I'm tired and I want to go to sleep." I glare at him. He turns towards me, his whole body now facing mine. From this angle, I'm only more aware of our size difference; he seems to tower over me, even on his side. His eyes find mine, before an entertained smile stretches across his face.

"Then go back to sleep."

He seems impossibly close now. I can smell the aftershave on him, and I'm now all too acquainted with the scent. I'm so close to him I can see the stubble across his jaw, and the faint shadows under his eyes.

"I will. After you get out of my bed." I try to sound stern, but he merely laughs now. It's a rare sound, and it makes my eyes widen in response.

"Oh, little Amity. Maybe after you pass your initiation you'll learn which bedroom is actually yours." His voice is low and gravelly, and I grow hot at the sound of it. It takes me a second to process his words, and I suddenly sit upright. His eyes fall to my exposed shoulder, the strap of my tank top having slid down my arm.

"What are you talking about?" I pull at the shoulder of my shirt, trying to shrug the tank top strap back up. I glance around the room quickly and shut my eyes in disbelief.

"Oh, shit," I swear. The dresser mocks me from its position, some of Eric's clean clothes in a neat pile atop of it. I can see his vest tossed on top of the pile, and his pants and boots kicked to the side of the door. I rub at my eyes and try to make myself shrink.

"No," I groan. "This isn't happening."

He laughs again, and this time it's deep and throaty. It's almost pleasant-sounding, except that it's at my expense.

"This isn't funny." I scowl at him, and he sticks out his lower lip in mockery.

"I find it hilarious." His eyes hold mine. "You just can't seem to stay out of my bed, now can you?" He raises his eyebrow, and props himself up so he's closer to me. "You know, I told you all you had to do was ask."

My cheeks burn bright red now, and I'm so close to him I'm sure he can feel the heat from them. His gaze drops for a second, and I swear my heart skips a few beats.

I need to get out of his bed.

He's a Dauntless leader, and I am an initiate, one who's managed to fall asleep in his bed twice now. His presence is overwhelming to me, but something in me doesn't want to go away. I don't want to slip out of his bed and crawl into cold sheets. I chew on my lip for a second, trying to figure out why I'm suddenly torn. His eyes watch my lips again, then they slide back up to meet mine.

I swallow nervously now, stuck in his gaze.

Eric's eyes are dark.

They are dark and hungry, filled with something I can't put my finger on. I try to remember to breathe, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. He tilts his head towards me, so close that his forehead lingers against mine for the briefest of seconds. I open my mouth to say something, and then stop.

He pulls back abruptly, settling so he's on his back again, and closes his eyes.

"Go to sleep, Amity. We're up first tomorrow."

I am still sitting there, half upright and completely confused. Was I just given permission to sleep in his bed? Do I want permission to sleep here? The logical side of me says I need to get out now, that this is a dangerous game I'm playing here. The illogical side of me tells me to shut up and go back to sleep. To curl beneath his warm sheets, next to his warm body, and allow myself one blissful night of sleep.

I steel myself to get up, to walk out of this room and back into my own bedroom.

Instead, I close my eyes.

 

 

Waking up next to one of the Dauntless leaders is not something that I had ever envisioned happening during any of my daydreams about getting out of Amity. When I thought of my new life, I'd thought of myself as strong and independent — easily passing through the training, and making a few real friends. Even though I had thought it would be tough, I was excited for it. I never expected myself to be trained alone, by one of the leaders, who seemed to sway erratically from hating the mere sight of me to inviting me to sleep next to him.

I wake up before him, sometime in the early hours of the morning. The room is still dark, and twilight has yet to break. I am finally warm, curled deep beneath the blankets and surprisingly against Eric's sleeping form. My head is against his chest, one arm resting over his stomach, and one of his legs is shoved between mine. Our hips are angled close together, in an almost embarrassingly intimate way. My brain wakes up slowly, and the recognition of our position should startle me.

I'm surprised to find it doesn't.

I shift slightly to peer up at him, hoping not to wake him with any sudden movements. He's asleep, his lips parted slightly and his head tilted towards mine. I'm tempted to say he looks younger in his sleep, but he looks like the same Eric to me. The only difference is his eyes are closed, and he's not scowling in my general direction. I close my eyes again, and shift slightly, making myself more comfortable. I don't really realize I'm pressing myself closer to him, but I am.

His grip on me tightens slightly, almost a sleepy reflex. He adjusts himself closer, without opening his eyes. After a few seconds his breathing deepens, slow and even. I can feel myself drifting off again, and for a minute I let myself think how good it feels to be against him like this.

 

 

"Again, Amity." His voice is low, and I adjust my stance in preparation to attack.

While Four's class gets a reprieve from their combat training during the simulations, I am not quite that lucky. And just because I woke up in Eric's bed, drowsy and alone until I realized he was in the shower, it does not mean I am treated to anything less than continued intense training from Eric. Part of me is glad; the other initiates glower when they walk past us, and a few even mumble their displeasure. Four can't do both simulations and training at the same time, so training with Eric is almost a luxury at this point.

He dodges my punch, but I manage to hit his side, then his stomach.

I try to swallow down the images of his abdominal muscles that I know are beneath his shirt. The feeling of his chest rising while he sleeps. The push of his leg between mine, lessening any space between us. Sleeping in his bed may not have been the smartest idea. He is all I have thought about today, and maybe that was his whole plan.

He pins me to the mat easily, his hips effortlessly holding mine in place; his breathing is ragged despite little physical effort on his part. He jerks up suddenly, his eyes anywhere but on mine.

"Again."

I've become accustomed to sparring with him; I find myself falling into an easy rhythm with him, and by the time we are done, we are both sweaty and sore. I'm proud of the progress I've made, and Eric seems to be as well.

"Good job, Amity," he sneers as I limp away from him. My braid is trashed, and my shirt is soaking wet with sweat.

"Thanks, Dauntless," I mutter. I find my water bottle, and gleefully drink down the icy water. "Are we done for the day?"

He's behind me now, striding towards me. His shirt clings to his chest, and he wipes at his forehead. I've rarely seen him break a sweat during any of our workouts, let alone during the training. I take it as a sign that my fighting is up to par.

"We are. I thought we'd go shower and have dinner," he answers me, his eyes lifting to watch something over my shoulder. I can hear the footsteps behind me, and I turn to find a few boys from Four's class straggling in.

"How romantic," one of them sniggers at us, obviously feeling braver than normal. Eric's eyes flash cold, and they narrow at the one who opened his mouth. His gaze darkens to something murderous, and he takes a step towards him.

"Is there a problem, initiate?" His voice is low and dangerous, and I can feel the small shiver work its way up my spine. Pissing off Eric is a risky mistake, one that this idiot is about to realize.

The boy freezes in place, and his eyes suddenly widen in horror. It's as if he's just realized that he uttered the words out loud and that Eric heard them.

The boy tries to mumble some sort of weak apology, but Eric is having none of it.

"Why don't you come over here." Eric's voice is like ice, and I haven't heard it that particularly chilly since I said Four's name while asking for cake. The boy slowly makes his way towards us, all bravery gone from him. He looks almost ill as he stops a few feet away.

"I have an idea. Since you all seem so curious as to what's going on over here, why don't you and Everly fight a round together. Let's see who's been paying attention during training, shall we?" Eric's stare is directed squarely at the boy in front of us, and I feel a slight twinge of sympathy for the poor idiot.

"But we're done with combat! We're onto fear simulations!" the boy protests, and I recognize him as the same boy who mocked me right after we jumped. He looks different now; gone is the soft roundness from his face and build, having been replaced by sharp features and lean muscle.

The boy looks at me and his face is filled with dismay. I want to laugh. He can't possibly be afraid of me.

"Then this should be easy for you. Since you've already passed combat with flying colors. Unless your friend wants to take your place?" Eric's tone is cold and nasty, and the boy's friend shakes his head nervously.

I watch as the boy miserably marches into the center of the ring, and waits for Eric's instructions. He nods at me to join him, but catches my arm as I approach the ring. He bends his head down, his lips grazing my ear, and hisses something low and quiet.

"Beat him in this fight, and you can sleep in my bed for the rest of your training."


	8. Amity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to express my thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. If you could see the smile on my face when the notifications pop up on my phone. I'm so honored that you guys are enjoying the story and are just as invested as I am. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to message me! 
> 
> Anyways, as always, this is so unbetad so please forgive spelling and tense issues. I try to go over it multiple times, but I can only catch so many. 
> 
> So I'd like to take a moment to dedicate this chapter to everyone who left a review. You guys have really made me smile. I appreciate every single one of you :) This one's for you.

His words burn in my mind.

"Beat him in this fight, and you can sleep in my bed for the rest of your training."

Before I can open my mouth to ask if that means with him or without him in it, he shoves me into the ring and I prepare for the fight. Eric stand with his hands clasped together in front of him, watching the boy from Four's class fumble for an excuse not to fight. The boy seems panicked upon realizing there is no way to back down from this. I smirk at the idiot, a mirror image of Eric's trademark sneer.

I like discovering that I'm actually quite good at everything Eric has taught me.

Especially fighting.

It sometimes catches me off guard. I didn't set out to become some sort of combat expert. But training against Eric has developed my skills far beyond what I could have imagined. I stand with my shoulders back and I keep my smirk on my face as I cock my head at the two boys from Four's class.

I plan on winning the fight. Not just so I can crawl into Eric's bed tonight. While his offer is tempting; his warm sheets and his even warmer body are quite the prize, I'm not ready to give into him just yet. No, I want to win because I want both of us to be proud of my training. I want to kick this boy's sorry ass because he thinks I'm pathetic; some small bumbling farm girl with a desperate crush on her trainer. And I want to prove to Eric that his training has paid off.

Eric barks at the boy for his name a few times, before growing impatient. The boy, Derek, finally mutters his name, and Eric snarls "Go!" before Derek could say anything else. Whether Derek was thrown off by Eric's attention to him or whether he really hadn't done all that well during the combat training will remain a mystery. Or maybe it was the lingering promise Eric's bed that pushed me on.

Whatever it was, I won.

Easily.

Derek had managed to make it through Four's training, but his technique pales in comparison to what Eric has taught me. I effortlessly take him down before he's aware we've started fighting. My third punch to his jaw has him shrieking at the sound of the crunch, and I get a small sliver of satisfaction at the sound.

"Guess you should have chosen the farm." I tell him, my voice sugary sweet. He falls easily, giving me an unfair advantage. I pin him down, and after a few minutes he yelps for me stop. I hop off him, and wait for him to get back up. He does, sort of. He manages to stands, one hand on his jaw and the other up in defeat. He looks at Eric for some sort of mercy that he knows isn't coming. Eric stares at him for a beat, his gaze harsh.

"Do you need to stop?" Eric spits his words at Derek. Derek can only nod, and he nearly cringes as Eric's unimpressed glare washes over him.

"I'll let Four know how you did. Now get out of here." Eric finally barks at him, apathetic as ever.

Derek whimpers as he staggers away, his pride gone and his head down. He doesn't even realize he's gotten off lucky. Eric could have made this much much worse for him.

Eric turns to me and simply smiles; it's not as wide or honest as Four's smiles. But this one is something less lethal and more proud. He raises an eyebrow at me as I make my way out of the ring before he shoves his hands against my ribs.

I'm thrown off guard for a second before I realize he is checking to make sure there was nothing cracked or out of alignment. I try not to laugh. Derek had barely been able to get a hit in, let alone inflict any damage.

"You did well, Amity." Eric's words are quiet during his rare moment of praise, and he removes his hands after finding nothing of any importance.

I nod at him, a smile stretching across my face.

 

I fall asleep on the couch before Eric has even finished making dinner.

I don't mean to. One minute I'm finishing reading my chapter in hopes of finding a way to easily work through the rest of the simulations, and the next minute my eyelids are slipping shut. I can hear Eric murmuring in the background, and the repetitive clank of dishes as he finishes up whatever he's making.

The last thing I remember is the feeling of his fingers in my hair, and his low voice growling at me.

"I'm starting to think you have narcolepsy."

My eyes shut for good, and I don't hear him anymore.

 

 

I awake with a start. I sit up in bed, and wait as my heart slows its frantic pace down. The nightmare is still fresh in my mind, the images playing on some slow loop and I shove the too warm covers off me.

It only takes a second for me to realize where I am. Eric has come through with his promise, placing me to sleep in his own bed. To my surprise, he isn't in here though. I sit for a moment trying to process the disappointment that's burning a wide ache in my chest. I try to push it down, but it's useless. I can't deny that deep down I wanted him to be in here.

The unexpected sound of laughter bursts through the slightly open door.

I slip off the bed, ignoring the blistering fact that I have on nothing but one of his shirts. A warm feeling curls low in my stomach. The thought of him pulling off my training clothes, and somehow dressing me for bed in his own shirt makes me feel the tiniest bit dizzied.

Ignoring the sudden burst of warmth spreading throughout my body, I slowly creep towards his bedroom door, and pause right in the frame. From his room I can see out into the living room, and the sight of him reclined back on his couch next to several guys that I don't know shocks me. He looks more relaxed than I have seen him, and I feel slightly guilty in my observation. It's nearly unfair to watch him without his knowledge. I watch as he takes a sip from the dark amber bottle in front of him, a wry smile appearing across his face.

"So she's number one, huh?" I can only see the back of his head, and I recognize him from the control room. His bun makes him easily known. "How the fuck did you manage that?"

Eric smiles lazily in return, and sets his drink down in front of him. "You expected any less?" He shrugs and the red haired man next to him snorts.

"You just trained her, huh. I don't actually believe that. Are you sure you and Four figured out the scoring properly?" Forget my earlier goodwill towards the redhead. I have the urge to punch him in the throat.

Eric throws him a dirty look.

"Of course I trained her." He snaps, irritation crossing his features. "For the most part, she's listened and taken direction well."

Bun man lets out a loud laugh now. "Oh I bet you've trained her to take direction well."

My friend is who is just waiting to be throat punched chortles. "Is she here? Can we see her?"

A feeling of horror washes over me. He wants to see me, as though I am some sort of side show attraction. Eric shoots him a murderous look, his forehead wrinkling.

"Well that's certainly creepy." He takes a swig of his drink before narrowing his eyes. "And no, you may not see her."

There is a smatter of laughter, and the dark haired friend fidgets with his drink. "You gonna explain why she's listed with your last name?"

The redhead snaps his gaze towards Eric, his hand frozen halfway to his mouth. "What? Why does she have your last name? Let me see the rankings." He sets his drink down and fumbles for the tablet that I know is sitting on the table in front of him. Eric bats his hand away before shooting him a cold stare.

"Drop it." He snarls.

I can hear the snort from man bun. "I'll tell you why. Because Eric here, seems to have developed some microscopic fondness for little Amity. And he filled out her paperwork and decided his last name looked better after hers."

There is a silence in the room, and I watch as the muscle in Eric's jaw twitches.

"Fuck you." He throws out, but there is no malice behind it. "I filled it out in a hurry. I wasn't paying attention."

"Oh, you not paying attention? Really? You sure you weren't just thinking ahead to your impending marriage?" Man bun obviously does not believe Eric's response.

This time Eric kicks him, the heel of his boot connecting roughly with the man's knee. He yelps in pain, and I watch as Eric laughs.

"Give up the dream. It was just a mistake and I've had the pleasure of dealing with the fallout from it all fucking day."

The red head shakes his head. "Max offer to officiate the ceremony?"

Eric rolls his eyes in response, but even I notice the barest of smiles ghost his face- the corners of his lips turn up a fraction of a millimeter. "You gonna be the flower girl, Jason?"

I try not to laugh. I can't imagine Eric being married to anyone, let alone knowing what a flower girl is. I haven't the slightest clue as to how dauntless deals with marriages. Do they recognize the commitment ceremony? Back in amity celebrations were a common occurrence, and there was no greater celebration than the honor of two people coming together to share their love.

Eric doesn't exactly conjure up images of a wedding party in a field of wild flowers.

Jason, I attach his now known name to his face, well back of his head, suddenly seems serious.

"You have to admit, she is pretty. She wouldn't be half bad to be forced to be around." He sounds a little bit envious, and man bun nods his head.

"She is." He turns to look at his friend suddenly. "Wait, I thought you haven't seen her?"

"Well I have. I mean, I've seen her walking around with Eric. I just wanted to see where she was sleeping." Jason answers.

Eric's eyes unconsciously flick towards his bedroom door.

His friends pick up on it immediately, and I can see their heads crane in the direction of his room, and I press myself tighter against the door frame. I say a silent prayer they didn't see me.

"No fucking way." Jason's words are loud. "She's asleep in your bed right now, isn't she?"

Eric looks like he's trying hard to keep him expression neutral. I can see him picking at the label on the bottle while gritting his teeth.

"She's asleep." He says shortly, and his friends let out a sort of whoop of celebration. I bite at my lip and try to keep from making any noise. This is a whole new side of Eric I'm seeing; I've never seen him less than in control, and there's an edge of discomfort even around his friends.

"Ok, but you do think she's pretty? Don't you." Man bun apparently has a death wish tonight, and I watch as Eric's entire body tenses up.

Jason, not wanting to be left out of this precious moment, chimes in. "You can tell us. It's not like we're gonna run through the halls screaming your secrets to the world. This isn't initiation all over again."

Eric eyes them both, and I watch as he finally shrugs his shoulders and stares at the wall with a fierce intensity.

"Yeah." He pauses for a beat, and he tilts his head to the side until his spine cracks a bit. "She's pretty." He says it very begrudgingly and there's a quietness in his voice that I don't recognize. His friends don't pick up on it, and man bun slaps him hard on the shoulder while Jason lets out another ear piercing celebration.

"Yes!" He crows. "We've been waiting for you to admit this."

Eric is apparently done with the conversation. He stands, and throws Jason a murderous glare. "I said she was pretty. I don't remember professing my love for her. So calm the fuck down." He finishes his drink and slams it down on the table. "Be right back."

Crap.

He works his way around the couch, heads towards the bedroom door.

I'm much too slow to make it back to the bed; my overzealous spying has left me little time to anticipate his sudden return. He opens the door completely, and I stand before him, my eyes widening. It takes him a second to realize I'm there, and his eyes narrow in amusement.

"What are you doing." His voice makes me shiver, it's low enough for only me to hear, and there's a hint of roughness to it. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping? You did win your fight after all." His lip quirks at me and I swallow nervously.

"I didn't know you had friends." I blurt out. I mentally kick myself. That was not was I was planning on saying.

His expression changes to exasperation and he rolls his eyes. "Go back to bed, Amity."

I count my lucky stars because he doesn't ask any more questions. He walks past me to the bathroom, and I stand awkwardly, unsure of where to go. Before I can summon up the courage to slip out to the living room under the guise of getting something to drink, Eric appears and smirks at me.

Before he exits his bedroom, he hesitates for a beat, turning to stare at me with his steel eyes.

"Goodnight, Amity." He shuts the door behind him.

 

 

Eric is in the shower when I wake up.

I can't figure out if he slept next to me or not, and it nags at the back of my mind. I try to shove the thoughts away; I'm going to be late for my simulation if I don't get ready now. I slip out of his bed and back into my own room. A quick shower later, I shove my feet into my boots and my hair into a ponytail that winds up more to the side of my head than not.

He's gone when I make my way to the living room, but his friends are not. Jason and man bun are sprawled out on the couch, snoring loudly. They are both dead to the world, and I leave before they can wake up. To my surprise Eric standing in the hallway, staring at his tablet with a dark look on his face. He looks up when I shut the door, and clicks the tablet off.

"I'll walk you to the simulation room."

His hand lingers on my elbow as we walk, warm even through my long sleeves.

Four administers my fear landscape while Eric heads off to meet with Max again. I'm surprised that's he's overseeing this part of the training. I thought my whole training was with Eric, but it turns out Max would like to Eric to complete his actual work too instead of just training me. So he's very begrudgingly left me with Four, but not without one final glare in Four's direction.

The needle slides into my neck easily, and Four's hand lingers on my neck just a second too long.

"Almost done." His voice is quiet and warm. His fingers are uncomfortable on my neck, and I want to shove them away.

I close my eyes and try to ignore him. The serum should kick in soon, and I will be back fighting whatever my thoughts throw at me today. It seems like forever until I feel the drowsy pull of the simulation.

Four's words are the last thing I hear.

"Why aren't you afraid of Eric?"

I open my eyes suddenly. Four is at the computer typing away, his frown more pronounced than ever. I blink a few times and feel my hands shake. The simulation leaves me feeling uneasy, almost ill feeling.

Four finally looks up. "Nice job." His voice sounds dull, and I stare at him curiously. It takes a second for the ill feeling to go away and my mind to clear.

"You sound a little unhappy there. Did I not do very well?" I slide out of the chair and stand before him. He shakes his head at me before walking towards me.

"You did exceptionally well. What has Eric done to help you prepare for this part of the training?" His voice is stern now. "Why is easy for you, and not for anyone else?"

I stare at him in confusion. "It's not easy for me. I just, I don't know go through it. I don't really remember them very well when I'm done."

Four doesn't look like he believes me. "He didn't tell you how to get through them?"

I shake my head and shrug. "He barely told me what the simulation was."

Four nods suddenly, his lips turning into a half smile. "Of course he didn't." He stops for a second before catching my gaze. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." I answer, not really sure what to say. It's not like I can tell him no.

"How close are you and Eric?"

I can feel myself grow warm at his question. My mind flashes to fuzzy images of Eric and I, curled beneath his covers, his hand trailing down my spine. There is an innocence on my part, but even I don't completely believe that anymore. He may keep me warm, but I've stopped trying to deflect his contrived attention. I've grown unexpectedly fond of his large palms on my back and the feel of him against me.

I swallow, and try to come up with an answer to satisfy Four's curiosity.

"He's only training me to prove he's better than you." I find myself saying. I'm not sure if the words are true at this point. "I'm sure as soon as the training is done, he'll be done with me." My stomach knots unexpectedly at the words.

Four shifts his weight and presses his lips into a thin line. "I don't believe that."

I raise an eyebrow and try to seem exasperated. "You know he doesn't really want to train me. He's just doing it to get a rise out of you."

Four shakes his head, frustration flashing across his face. "It might have started that way. It's something else now." He takes a step forward, his hand finding my arm. "You need to be careful."

I find myself unable to come up with a good response. I nod my head, biting my lip.

"Ok."

 

 

I have to repeat the fear simulation after lunch, and I find myself slightly hesitant after Four's questioning. I'd slipped into the mess hall and my heart clenched when I spotted the group of leaders at the table. Today it wouldn't just Eric and I. We were joined by Max and Tori, plus two others that I didn't know.

Max decided to use the time to talk business with Eric. I didn't quite understand what they were talking about, but I picked up bits and pieces. Every so often, Eric would shift and his leg would press against mine or his arm would brush my own. The fourth time it happened, Max threw me a smile and a knowing look.

"I hear everything is going very well, Everly. We're really impressed with your progress here." He abruptly changes the subject, his full attention is on me now, and I feel a tiny bit nervous under his stare.

"Thank you." I answer him. "I'm trying really hard."

"I'm sure you are. It helps that you and Eric work well together." His tone is light, but I suspect there is implication behind his words. He's terrible at subtlety.

"You two seem like you have a good trainer and initiate relationship." He stresses the last word, and beside me, I can almost feel every vertebra in Eric's spine click into place as he straightens himself up. I try to swallow my chicken nugget, but it seems stuck in my throat. Scratch that, Max is awful at subtlety.

"It's been great." Eric answers, his voice laced with cynicism. I feel a tiny bit insulted; I don't think my training has been too terrible on him.

Max lets out a small snicker, and Tori shoots him a dirty look. One of the other leaders clears their throat, and the tension hangs in the air for a moment. Then just like that, it's gone, and they resume discussing how many ways abnegation could stand to loosen up.

 

 

The third time I complete the fear simulation, I am left shaking and nauseous. I find myself beyond dizzied, my head swimming with terrible images.

"Don't get up yet." Four's voice sounds worried. He's typing away furiously on the computer and he finally stops and makes his way over to me. "You look a little pale." He frowns, his eyes troubled.

This was the worst one so far. They've increased in their intensity, but it's becoming the smallest bit easier to get through them. Today's has thrown me for a loop; I watched myself flail over and over, and then gracelessly step off the edge of a towering glass building. I can still feel the way my body slammed into the ground, my bones crushing unpleasantly.

"I need…I need some water or something." I look up at him, and find myself welling up with panic. This cannot be happening. I've been doing well, really well according to everyone but Eric. I can't afford a setback like this.

Four helps me stand up, and I steady myself for a moment in front of the chair.

"I'm going to have Karl take you to Eric's office. I don't think you should walk back alone." He's watching me cautiously. "I'll send him your results. Don't worry about this. The further along we go, the more we push you. The next few might be worse than todays." His brows furrow together, and he looks almost apologetic.

"You'll get through it." He offers up. I smile at him, and nod wordlessly as he walks me to the door. He yells out for Karl, and my large friend with the war games plan ambles towards me. His eyes light up in delight at my presence.

"Walk with her to Eric's office. She's a little woozy." Four tells him. I shoot him a dirty look. I don't need him telling anyone that the simulation got to me. Outside of the door sits initiates from both classes, Four's transfer class, and Lauren's dauntless born class. I can feel their eyes on me, trying to make out what Four is saying. Beside me Karl seems please with his mission, so I don't protest.

We walk along the hallways quietly, and I'm surprised he knows where to go.

"All the leaders have offices on the sixth floor." He tells me, proud of his knowledge. I smile at him, and we step into the dark elevator. He's silent until he punches the button for the right floor.

"I'm really jealous you get to train with Eric." Karl announces. "He's so much cooler than Four. I mean, don't get me wrong. Four's fine. But Eric just seems like he was born to be Dauntless." Karl scratches at his neck for a minute, and I nod at him.

"He's a good trainer." I don't really know what else to say to him. I'm saved by the chime of the elevator, and the doors open up to a brightly lit walkway. I've never been down this way before, and I read off the names on the plaques by each door. Eric's office is at the very end, and Karl knocks loudly on the door.

"What." Eric barks from behind the door. Karl hesitates slightly at the tone, and I try not to laugh at his sudden apprehension. I wonder if he thinks Eric sounds cool. From the tone of Eric's voice, it might be more pleasant to redo the simulation than to interrupt whatever he's doing.

I open the door, thrown off by its surprising heavy weight.

I stumble in for a moment, nearly tripping over my own feet before I catch my balance. Eric is watching from behind a large desk, one eyebrow raised on his stony face. His expression darkens when Karl bounces in behind me.

"Did something happen?" he asks flatly. I shake my head and make my way towards his desk. I'm starting to feel a little bit better now that I'm away from the simulation room. I stop when I reach his desk, and Karl comes to a halt behind me.

"Four wanted me to walk Everly here, sir." Karl's voice has an important tone to it, as though he's done more than walk me down the hallway.

Eric glances at me quickly before looking back to Karl. "Thank you." His tone is dismissive, and he bends his head back down to the desk in front of him.

Karl stands still behind me, and I find myself trying not to smile. A minute passes by before Eric raises his head slowly, his scowl appearing as soon as he sees Karl still there.

"Did you need something, initiate?" His voice is bored.

Karl shakes his head, and his moment in the sun slowly fades as he slinks away. "Thanks Karl." I throw out, hoping to dull some of the awkwardness. Karl smiles gratefully before disappearing out the door.

Eric glances at me out of one eye. His hands never leave his keyboard, and he continues typing. "Something happen during your simulation?"

I don't want to tell him that I felt terrible, but he'll find out anyway. "I got kind of sick." I confess. I flop down into the chair in front of his desk. It's large and cold, and I kick my legs up in front of me. I stare at the laces on my shoes. "I feel better now though."

I wait to hear his lecture, but it never comes. He simply finishes typing before sighing and shoving his desk chair back.

"Good. Then you can come with me on this errand." He takes a hold of some papers, and thrusts them into a pile with great annoyance. "I've got a meeting to attend, and it might be good for you to experience it."

"Where are we going" I look up at him, and I realize he's got a very unpleasant smile on his face.

"Back to your old faction."

 

 

Amity is beautiful right now.

I stand at the edge of the property line and I let myself stop and take in the view. It's been close to snowing and the wind is harsh against my exposed skin. The air here is fresh and crisp, and the sun is a few hours away from setting. It feels almost electric out here.

I watch as the members of my former faction scramble around, working with an unconscious joy to their movements. The idea of Amity is ridiculous to some; growing up I heard all kinds of ridicule. Who wants to live like some sort of farming peasant- picking crops and sitting around campfires. Too many jokes about banjos and hippies and a lack of intellect.

It's all false. Amity is home to some of the smartest people I've know. Many have transferred in from other factions simply to escape the pressure of someone else's ideal life path. While my life was not completely stress free, it was definitely easier than other factions. Farming might have been hard work, but surrounded by those who share nothing love and positivity, it was very nearly soothing.

Eric graciously lets me have this moment.

I finally meet his gaze, and together we take off.

He's given me a jacket to wear that matches his own. The thick collar is heavier than expected, and it's much warmer than the training jackets. I've pulled my hair up halfway on the sides, and with the heavy boots on, I have a hard time feeling like I once lived here.

He motions for me to follow after him; our boots crunch over dry leaves as we approach the center of the community. Eric walks with a sense of intimidating purpose, shoulders back and spine straight. He practically oozes an aura of power. He keeps his expression rather flat, as though the surroundings do little to please him.

We are almost to the wide barn doors when familiar faces appear in front of me. Arms are thrown around me, and I realize it's been a long time since I've been hugged by someone for the pure purpose of affection. I see my former friends, their happy smiles and their long tangled hair as they shriek their greetings at me. Eric looks downright displeased at their displays of affection.

"Everly! You look so different!" A high voice shrieks. I smile at Courtney but it isn't quite a real smile. Aside from the uniform and boots, I can't possibly look that different. Their hands paw at my hair, still long and wavy, and they curiously touch the stiff fabric of the jacket.

"Eric. Amity welcomes you." Johanna's soft voice breaks through the group of girls, and they vanish. Joanna's eyes find mine, and they are softly maternal. "Everly. It's so good to see you again."

She knows, I think to myself. She knows my family did not come to see me. She takes a step forward, and pulls me against her into a warm embrace. One of her hands presses against my hair, and the other holds me close. She smells like the outdoors, like warm sunlight and a pine trees. I find myself unexpectedly close to crying. While I have had small feelings of homesickness here and there, actually being back in my old faction is gut wrenching.

"It's so good to see you. " I tell her. I don't care if I'm showing some sort of weakness, or if I'm a giant faction traitor. Right now, I need this. She seems to know; she pushes a piece of my hair out of my eyes and hugs me tighter for a moment.

Beside us, Eric clears his throat.

She lets me go, and her expression changes into something of forced politeness. "Shall we try to finish this before sundown? If we have time, we'd love for you to join us for dinner."

 

 

Dinner in Amity a lively affair.

The night is dark, but the fires are lit and the tree lights twinkle. I remember helping spot the trees with the bright lanterns a few years ago. The dining area is crowded and noisy; families laugh together and children run up and down between the tables. Everyone is kind and helpful and most of all, happy. It is overwhelming to be back here.

Eric's knee bumps against mine, more or less on purpose. He almost seems too large to be at the rickety wooden table. He looks out of place here; his eyes are narrowed as he takes in the sights before him and his lips have been pressed tightly together ever since someone set a plate down in front of him. He elbows me roughly until I turn away from the woman I was talking to.

"What is this?" He's staring at his plate, his piercings pulled tightly as his face scrunches up.

I let out a small laugh. "It's hummus. It's good."

His face slides into a grimace, and he looks up at me as though I told him it was made of human flesh. I hand him a piece of pita bread, and he immediately shakes his head.

"Oh, I'm not eating that bread." He scoffs.

I smile at him and take a large bite out of my own pita. "Serums only in the dinner rolls and sandwich breads." I whisper at him.

Eric grunts in response, and shoves the plate away from him. "I'm not taking any chances."

"Suit yourself." I shrug at him. He watches me finish my pita bread before he leans in close and he tugs on the bottom of my hair.

"As soon as you are done, we are leaving."

I stifle the snort in my throat. I can tell he's had his fill of good vibes for the day. He'd been nothing but serious and unemotional when talking with Johanna about her lack of paperwork on the fence maintenance. I get the feeling Eric found our trip out here unnecessary.

"Ok." I tell him. In all honesty, I'm ready to head back to dauntless. I turn to Lucy to give her a polite goodbye and I stand, grabbing my empty plate.

"I'll be right back." I tell Eric, and I make my way towards the kitchen. I am relieved that I have not run into my parents and siblings. It strikes me as slightly odd, but Amity does have a large population, and they have probably chosen to dine at home. It's not required to eat together, but it's highly encouraged. The social atmosphere of Amity is one of its charms.

I smile as I had my plate over to the man behind the counter, and I turn and find myself nearly crashing into a pair of arms.

"Everly!" The voice is warm and excited, and I find myself being held in place by his arms. Landon stands before me, his blue eyes sparkling in the cold night. "I thought that was you!"

While I am happy to see him, I can't help but feel a spark of worry burst through me. I haven't seen him since we broke up months before I chose to leave Amity. It was mostly mutual; Landon was as sweet and kind as any Amity could hope to be, and I was not.

His grin is so wide it must hurt, and I peek up at him through my bangs. "How are you?" I smile at him as warmly as I can muster. His brown hair is longer than I remember it, and it's pulled back into some knot halfway in the back. He's tall and lean, and his beard is fully grown now. He's still smiling at me with this large, dopey smile, and my stomach drops when he inches closer.

"I'm good, Everly. I can't believe you're here. I've just…I just really miss you." He takes one of his free hands and he uses it to trace across my cheekbone before he slips it into my hair. He threads it behind my ear, his thumb stroking my cheek. "You look beautiful."

I can feel myself starting to panic.

His hands feel wrong.

I've grown familiar to the roughness of Eric's touches, the way his large hands easily slip over my skin. When Landon steps forward even further, leaving me no room for escape, I can smell the Earth on him; the rough wheat of the fields and the earthy scent of the gardens. It's all wrong.

He places a finger on my lips, and I know what's coming next.

"Johanna and I were talking tonight. If you don't make it through the initiation, you can come back here." He whispers. I startle.

That's not what I thought was coming, and I freeze, unsure if I heard him properly. "What?"

His eyes are wide and kind. "Everly, you are so sweet and pure. You are not cut out for Dauntless. You do not need to prove your bravery to anyone. If they try to make you factionless, you can come back here. We'll help you stay out of their sights." His words rip me apart, and I am desperate to break away from him.

"You belong here." He tells me. I shake my head at him.

"I don't. I belong in Dauntless."

Unsatisfied with my answer, he sighs. "You don't. I don't know why you don't see it. Are you not going to realize it until they kick you out?" With that, Landon bends forward and firmly presses his lips to mine.

I stiffen almost immediately, and try to push away from him.

"Landon!" I cry out. "What are you doing? I'm not going to be factionless."

He shakes his head, and his eyes flash with kind remorse. "You don't belong there. I saw the man you came here with. I can see the coldness in his eyes, the glare on his face. You are nothing like that."

I shake my head at him, and shove his arms off of mine. "How can you say that? I'm doing really well there."

Landon looks like he doesn't believe me, and he sighs in frustration. "Come home." He says it so quietly I can barely hear him. "I want you back here." His slips from my hair and his eyes plead at me.

"Are you two done?" Eric's cold voice snaps through air, almost as cold as the night itself. I take a step back from Landon as though I am in the middle of committing some terrible crime. My eyes meet Eric's hard stare, and I realize his hands are balled tightly into fists. "We need to get back to dauntless. Unless you've got other plans."

I could throw up. He's obviously been standing there long enough to hear Landon, and the way he keeps gritting his teeth tells me he was there for Landon's kiss. I take another step back, and Landon looks at me pleadingly.

"It was good to see you." I tell him, trying hard to not look at Eric. He looks mad enough that his lips are curling into a snarl, almost baring his teeth.

"Think about what I said." Landon implores. I shake my head furiously; he's only making this worse. The last thing I want Eric to think is that I want to stay in Amity, or that I'm conspiring against him. I make my way towards Eric's retreating form. He doesn't look back at me, and this is a first. He stalks ahead of me, and I have to sprint to keep up with his pace.

By the time I reach him, his eyes are dark and he ignores my presence. I get the feeling if I wasn't able to keep up with him, he would leave me behind.

This will be an unpleasant ride home.

 

 

He corners me in the kitchen.

I'm standing there, finishing my drink, when I feel him behind me. I slowly turn around, and I jump when I realize he's merely a few inches behind me. His glare is still in place, and he doesn't even remotely smile at me.

"What did he say to you?" His words have a dangerous sound to them. I immediately shake my head; Landon's awful words returning to my ears. I swore Eric had been close enough to have heard Landon's insulting plea.

"He told me I didn't belong in dauntless."

Eric's expression doesn't change. "Why?"

I shrug at him. He's so close to me now that he towers over me. His chest is almost against mine, and he smells like firewood and something that is uniquely Eric.

"He said I'm not cut out for dauntless." Eric quirks an eyebrow now. "He thinks I'm going to fail the initiation."

"Impossible. I'm not about to let you fail." Eric's words are rough, and he looks down at me now. "Who is he?"

"What do you mean?" I know what he means. Who Landon is to me. Or was to me. Had Landon not kissed me I could have passed him off as a friend, but judging by Eric's behavior, he obviously witnessed Landon's terribly thought out attempt to get me to return to Amity.

Eric's hand reaches up and slowly traces across my cheekbone. His slips it into my hair, weaving his fingers behind my ear. My heart stops for a second, and every cell in my body feels like its burning. He's mimicking Landon's movements, but Eric's touch feels right.

"Was he the one you told Arlene about?" His voice is dangerously low now, and his eyes are half hooded, darkened with what can only be described as a flicker of raw jealousy. "Was he your first?"

I'm not sure how I'm still breathing, but I find a way to nod at him, unable to say anything. Eric's shoulders tense, but he doesn't stop. His other free hand reaches up to find the other side of my hair, fingers curling and pulling me towards him.

"Why'd you put my last name as Coulter?" I manage to ask him, angling my face towards him. He's so close, but I want him closer, and he knows it. He smirks down at me, his lips twisting upwards. "On that paper."

His nails scrape against my scalp as his fingers tighten.

"In case they found something wrong during your physical. The results would be sent to me instead of anyone else. They would associate it with my last name, and not yours. Had something been wrong, it would have given me a chance to take care of it."

"Oh." He's millimeters away from me now, his head bent forward.

His nose brushes against mine, and coming from him, the act is unnaturally gentle. "You're not to go back to Amity. That's an order."

I close my eyes, and I nod against him.

It seems like an eternity passes between us. He pushes himself closer, until my back hits the counter and his chest is flush with mine. He hesitates for a fraction of a second before he closes the minute distance between us, pressing his lips against mine.


	9. Progress

So first of all- Thank you so much for your patience! I know so many of you asked for this and your reasons for updates killlled me. I love them. So this one is to all of you! 

Enjoy :)

Oh! And yes, there is a HUGE typo in the last chapter. To anyone who wondered or saw it- There are no girls in the training classes. The word girls was supposed to read "guys" and my brain completely ignored it since it was technically spelled properly. It's been edited on here, so it should no longer read that way. Sorry if it threw you for a loop. There could be girls in Lauren's class, but for the purpose of this story- there are none.

And to the few who asked about Everly's friends- she'll make a few here and there, but this will mainly focus on Eric/Everly. Four, Tris, Christina, etc are all minor players who slip in and out of her life on a daily basis. I imagined she trained much harder and longer with Eric, and her free time wouldn't readily be spent out socializing too much.

Thanks again for reading and reviewing! You make me smile! 3 And...the next chapter is halfway done so it shouldn't be too much longer.

And finally, a huge thank you to LenaFerrana to reading through this! You are amazing! <3

 

His lips press against mine, surprisingly soft and warm. My hands move on their own accord; they reach up, winding around his neck, until one finds the back of his hair. I pull him closer, my efforts laughable as there is no space between us. My lips part slightly as he presses against me harder and my fingers dig into his scalp.

It lasts mere seconds.

Eric suddenly jerks back; his eyes flare ever so slightly, but his fingers stay anchored in my hair. He swallows thickly, and I stare up at him, wishing he hadn't stopped.

"I didn't mean to…" He starts to say, his voice low and heavy. He closes his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and I can feel my heart racing against my ribs, threatening to crack one open at any moment. I have no doubt that he meant to kiss me. If I've learned anything here, it's that Eric does not to do anything he truly doesn't want to do. He opens his eyes, and I realize I can feel him almost shiver against me. "I shouldn't…"

He doesn't finish this sentence either. His lips crash back against mine, sweetly frantic. They work against mine, and my fingers find his scalp again, digging through hair softer than I'd imagined. I tighten my grip, and this time he makes a strangled groan at the sensation. He breaks the kiss for a fleeting moment; his hands reach for my waist, and before I know it, I am sitting atop the counter and almost eye level with him.

He takes the briefest second to meet my gaze, almost asking for some sort of permission, before he bends his head forward until he finds my ear.

"Tell me to stop." His words are raw and feverish.

I don't say anything; I'm too lost in the blinding feeling of it all. His mouth is working its way against my ear, and it moves to my neck before I can come up with any semblance of a response. He presses his lips there, the kisses wet and open mouthed as they trail down my neck. He reaches my throat, and I find myself angling my head to give him more access.

"Everly." He drawls my name against my skin. I can feel his teeth graze the side of my neck now, and I let out a soft cry as he bites down, the sharp incisors nipping at me. He sucks against the skin, and I shiver as he moves, grasping my head to pull me back to his mouth.

"Tell me." He hisses.

His lips find mine again, and this time, his kiss is surprisingly soft. For a minute. He then bites at my lower lip, and I gasp at the sting. He uses my surprise to his advantage, and he slips his tongue against mine. I fumble for him blindly, needing to feel his solid form against my hands. He makes some sort of growl, low in his throat.

There is a burning through my veins now; a deeply wanting desire blazing through every cell in my body. A frustrating ache has spread through the intricate system of nerves, and I am powerless to stop it.

I am also powerless to stop the unrelenting knock on Eric's door.

He breaks apart from me all too suddenly, and I immediately note the loss of his warmth. When he finally pulls away fully, his hands remaining in my hair for a second longer, we are both breathing heavily and my mind is a spinning mess. I've embarked on this path of actions that I had never thought I would have. Leaving the only faction I had ever know, choosing a lifestyle the exactly opposite of my upbringing, sleeping in Eric's bed, wanting to be near him, and now failing to tell him to stop kissing me. Should I have told him to stop? Did I want him to stop?

The answer is no, and I meet his eyes hoping that they are not filled with regret.

They aren't. His eyes are dark and stormy, but they hold no apology. They glance down at my neck, and his lips smirk at me; a smug expression crossing his face as Eric very lightly touches the skin where he bit down.

The knocking only increases, and finally Eric's eyes flash to the door, his hands dropping completely away from me.

"Looks like we have company." His voice is even, any evidence of his ragged breathing gone. I can hear someone yelling Eric's name now, along with a string of words that aren't in any particular order. They stop for a minute before they grow louder.

I can only stare after him as he heads towards the door and flings it open.

"Four. What a pleasant surprise." He states flatly, his greeting lacking any warmth.

"Did you make Derek fight Everly today?" Four's voice unexpectedly filters through the apartment. He sounds different; slurry and uneven. "Derek said you made him fight her."

"I made an example out of him. He had a few choice words to say about my training." Eric's tone is clipped.

"I thought you didn't want her fighting anyone from my class. Thought you didn't want her getting hurt." Four's words are hard to make out, and I find myself tilting my head towards him, trying to hear them better.

Eric lets out an exasperated sigh. "I didn't want a repeat of James. This time, I was there to make sure nothing happened to her."

Four is quiet now, and I hold my breath waiting for an answer.

"Is she here?"

I can almost imagine the look Eric must be giving him, and I stifle the snicker in my throat.

"She's asleep." Eric tells him shortly.

"Where?" I hear a slightly thud, as though Four has toppled over and into the frame of the door.

"Are you drunk?" Eric's voice has a slight hint of disbelief to it. "She's in bed. You can talk to her tomorrow. Go to bed, Four."

"She's not yours, Eric." Four's voice is a small slurry wail, and I wish I could see Eric's face. "After this training is over, she'll find other people to be friends with. Not just you."

"Thank you for your keen intuition. Now go home." Eric retorts nastily.

There is a small scuffle, and a yelp from Four as he manages to shove his way past Eric. I turn, still perched on the counter, and I watch as his face scrunches up when he sees me.

"I knew it!" He yells out, triumphantly. "I knew she was in your bedroom."

The look on Eric's face makes me laugh out loud. His nostrils flare slightly, and he appears to be counting to a very high number in his head.

"Yes. Because I sleep in my kitchen." Eric answers dryly.

Four does a double take at me before he turns to face Eric. He sways slightly, and I hear Eric mutter behind him. "Fucking Stiff. Learn to handle your alcohol." Judging from Eric's words I get the impression that Four isn't a big drinker, nor is this the first time Eric's dealt with him in this state. He takes Four by the elbow, and roughly guides him to the door. "Go home and go to sleep. I'm not covering your class for you tomorrow."

With that he slams the door, and his eyes flash angrily towards me. "You go to bed, too."

"Is Four drunk?" I ask him, ignoring him and pressing my luck for a moment. "He seemed different."

"Apparently. He seems to be very concerned about you." Eric mutters beside me. He stomps back over to me, and his eyes only brighten when they fall upon my neck for the second time. A pleased expression washes over his face as he smiles. "He just really wants to be your friend, Amity."

I watch him carefully, taking in the way he looks almost charming in this moment, and I have to stop myself from pulling him back against me.

"Are you going to call me by my real name when I pass my initiation?" I gaze up at him, watching the way his eyes narrow. He cocks his head to the side at me.

"Ah, so you do like the way it sounds when I say your name." Eric nearly purrs the words at me before he walks past me without a second look. "I can think of another way you can me say it."

Before I even think of a response, there is a loud crash outside in the hallway, as though someone is having a hard time staying upright, and I can only guess who it came from.

 

When I wake in the morning, his heavy arm is draped over me, pressing me back against the warm skin of his belly. One of his legs is thrown over me in the same manner, and I relish in the feel of him for the moment.

The minute he wakes up, he will shove himself off me and leave for the shower.

I'm slowly figuring him out. At least I think I am. His possessiveness is his own way of a laying a claim on me that he didn't know he even wanted. From what I can tell, he's used to getting what he wants, but what has blossomed between us was not initiated by him, nor was it something he chose to want. It's thrown him off, left him in a frantic state of uncertainty that he readily despises.

He shifts against me in his sleep, and his body presses closer, his nose somewhere in my hair.

I wonder how many people in Dauntless truly know him. How many know that he can cook a rather well done meal, that he likes to read in his free time- almost an greedy thirst for knowledge, or that he gets his haircut every two weeks- even buzzing the sides himself if he feels it's not been adequately done. He's overly critical, but only because he demands the best. He's unafraid when others couldn't be, and apparently, he really likes to snuggle.

There's more to him than this distantly cold image he gives off, but I have no idea if he's willing to show me past what we've shared.

I can feel him stir behind me, and I try to stay still. These moments with him are small and infrequent and I want it to last as long as possible. I can feel him stretching, the strong muscles pulling as he forces them into action, and then he's up and gone without any further warning.

I hear the shower start, and I close my eyes, pressing my cheek further against the pillow. I only have a few weeks of training left, and I have no clue what my future in Dauntless holds. I do have a plan, a stupid and risky plan- but that seems to be the only kind I can think of these days. I'm not sure if it will work, and it will be mortifyingly embarrassing if it doesn't. The only upside to it this plan is that even if I fail, I will be able to hopefully still pass initiation before fading away into the background of Dauntless and probably not interact with Eric, if at all.

The thought of not seeing him makes my chest tighten unexpectedly.

I roll over, my back flat against the sheets when my eyes fall upon the clock beside the bed. I sit up in horror. I've overslept; in reality we've overslept but Eric won't be penalized for his tardiness. I will. Eric is usually up much earlier than me. Sleeping in his bed has provided me with a newfound source of warmth, and I've refused to waste one second of it. I throw the covers off the bed and rush to my bathroom. Flinging the shower door open I swear quietly. This will have to be a fast shower or I will have to explain to Four why I'm late. The simulations have been scheduled down the minute, and I have no intention of throwing off anyone else's time. I shrug out of my night shirt underwear and hop in, praying I make it on time.

To my dismay, nothing happens when I turn the knob.

I stare up at the shower head in confusion. I turn it both ways, willing to risk both third degree burns and hypothermia.

Nothing.

"No." I gasp. I don't have time for this. I angrily try it again, but nothing happens. Frustrated beyond all means, I reach for my bath towel and rush back to Eric's room. This is not even remotely ideal, but somehow uttering to Four that my shower broke, especially after his surprise visit last night, is not something I would like to happen.

I'm in luck that Eric's bathroom door is unlocked, and I fling it open to find him wrapping a towel around his waist. I swallow, trying to look like I can't see the water dripping down his neck and onto his chest, or the way his arms are flexed, or the way he's looking at me as though there is nothing more appealing that my half naked presence before him.

"You're a little late if you wanted to join me." His eyes fix on my bare shoulders, and my struggle to keep my towel as tight as possible around me.

"My shower is broken! It didn't work. And I'm late." I inform him, trying to keep my towel upright. "I need to use yours."

His lips curl upwards, a large amused smile breaking across his face and his eyebrow rises. "By all means." He motions to the shower door, and I slip passed him, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I don't really plan on stripping my towel off in front of him, but he makes no move to leave. He's still standing there, his posture straight, looking downright delighted at my dilemma.

"Eric." I hiss at him. "I'm going to be late. And I don't want to have to explain to Four that you wouldn't get out of the bathroom while I showered."

He watches me, his eyes almost as dark as before he kissed me. "I'd like to hear you tell him that."

I try to throw him a dirty look, but he turns and lazily saunters out of the bathroom.

His shower turns on, and I yelp when the frigid water hits my skin.

 

Four's eyes fix on the mark on my neck, and he hesitates before he slides the needle into my skin.

He frowns, and it only adds to the miserable look on his face. His eyes look tired, the skin underneath them has darkened a few shades, and his slumped posture exposes that he is utterly exhausted. Turns out Eric was right, Four really can't handle his liquor well at all.

Christina had found me on my lone walk to the simulation room. I was grateful for the quiet; Eric had slipped out the opposite way, marching forward with his shoulders back. He was focused on something on his tablet when I emerged from his bathroom, fully dressed and with my hair in a wet bun. His eyes flashed over me, lingering just a second too long, before he opened the apartment door and I followed after him.

It went unsaid that I would meet him for lunch.

Christina bounced by me, happy and radiant that she had found me; and best of all, that I was alone.

"I need to ask you something." She took hold of my arm, looping hers through mine and nearly dragging me down the hallway with her.

"I'm almost late for my simulation." I tell her, wishing I had more time. Training with Eric may have given me a high ranking, but it's been less than ideal socially. I haven't formed any real connections with anyone besides Eric, and even that is confusing at best. Christina is the closest thing to a friend that I have here.

Christina rolls her eyes. "Four won't care. He's too hungover to remember what time he wrote you down for."

I look at her curiously in the dim lighting. "How do you know that? And why was he drinking?"

She grins widely, and I can tell she knows something. She pulls me aside, pushing me into the mess hall. "You know that I'm friends with Tris, right?" I try to keep up with her as we walk through the crowded hall. It seems like half of Dauntless is in here, and I realize why Eric rarely eats down here. I feel like I can barely move through throngs of people. "She works in the control room. With Four."

"Okay.."I trail off. She's lead me to the end of a line that I don't have time to stand in. "Well, guess who else works in the control room?"

I shrug at her. "Christina, I know maybe five people in this faction, and you're one of them."

She snorts, handing me a plate. "Jason!" She exclaims. I glance up at the line in front of us, watching it creep slowly forward.

"I'm so going to be late." I tell her. "And who's Jason?" All of sudden, the light goes off in my brain. Jason. My redheaded friend who's due to be punched the next time I see him.

Christina is so excited she's almost bouncing on her heels. "Apparently, he and Rylan were having an in depth discussion about Eric and you. About how Eric didn't want them to meet you. And the fact that he's seemingly got it bad for you." She pauses, and shoves me forward towards the muffins. "That's pretty much pure infatuation for Eric's standards. I've never seen him actually outright enjoy anyone's company."

I pick up a blueberry muffin, and I try to ignore the gaze of the girl in front of me. She's been trying very hard to listen in this entire time, and now she's turned, watching me intently. I elbow Christina to shut up.

"I also heard he kissed you."

"Um." I freeze, my hand halfway to the pile of toast. I can just imagine the look on man bun's face when he heard this new information.

"Oh my god, he did, didn't he?" If it's possible, Christina might just explode with excitement. "Four is going to die."

My head jerks back to Christina, and my eavesdropper freezes in place, this story just juicy enough to interrupt her beverage selection.

"Why would Four care?" I hiss at her. "I don't even know him."

Christina waves me off, selecting two mugs of coffee. "He's jealous. He and Tris got together while she was in his class, and she just dumped him this year." My eyes widen at this revelation. "Four's really a nice guy. I don't know if he's just jealous that you're days away from banging Eric or…"

The girl in front of chokes on her coffee. She turns to me, her face chock full of interest now. I raise an eyebrow at her and glare as she elbows her friend.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" I whisper angrily at Christina. Overcome with glee at this conversation, she doesn't hear me.

"Four's probably just upset that Eric could actually be happy and Four is off being…well, unhappy." She finally turns to me, her eyes wide. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

I want to tell her that she's practically told the entire mess hall, but I just smile and nod my head. I have two minutes to eat this muffin and make it to the simulation room.

"Want to have dinner sometime this week?" I ask her desperately. Maybe she can help me sort out the jumble of thoughts in my head.

She nods, grinning widely. "You don't even need to ask."

 

 

"What is the Leadership Apprentice Program?" I'm sitting on Eric's bed, cross legged, staring down at the paper in my hand. Max had handed it to me at lunch without much explanation. He hadn't stayed long, and I was thankful when he left without any sort attempt at conversation today. Lunch had gone by too quickly for my liking. I was hoping to find Christina, but instead I could only find Four, watching me from across the room with a dark look on his face. His class buzzed around him, each one louder than the next.

Eric appears from the bathroom. His hair is slightly less perfect than this morning and his expression tells me he's been lost in thought for the past few minutes. He shrugs, unconcerned as ever.

"It's a training program for new leaders. Or anyone interested in becoming a leader. We don't always have positions open, so this allows higher ranking initiates to train until they are ready." He pauses at the end of the bed, his eyes falling onto the paper in my hands. "Did Max give you that?"

I nod, and I can feel myself chew at my lip for a second. The paper has a long list of positions to choose from, a box to check for room reassignment, and a small area asking for census data. There are boxes for transfer, in faction training, and inter-faction training. I sigh, unsure of what I should do with it.

"Am I supposed to pick what I want to do after training?" Even though I know the training is nearing the end, it feels too soon to be making such a weighted decision. I look up to watch Eric instead of the paper; he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt and easily slides it off. I'm not sure if I will ever really be used to the sight of him shirtless. I try to avoid letting my stare fall to his hipbones. When I finally meet his eyes, he's smirking at me.

"Yes."

I narrow my own at him. "Well the first one has a stupid name. So I'm not picking that one."

He rolls his eyes in response before graceless flopping onto the bed next to me. He lies flat on his back, raising up on one arm and slinging it across his eyes.

"I can give you some more information about the LAP program if you're curious." I can hear the leer in his voice, and I kick at him from my spot on the bed. He doesn't retaliate, in fact he doesn't even move.

I glance down at him. I like the way our legs look together. The thought pops into my head without warning, and I stare at his bare limbs. Mine are much shorter than his, paler after all my time in Dauntless. His calf muscle is well defined, and it arches into a dark tattoo on the back of one of them.

I set the paper down on the nightstand next to the bed and I turn my attention to him. He hasn't moved, and he's been unusually quiet since we've finished dinner. I scoot closer to him, settling my knees to the side of me and leaning over until my fingers reach his collarbone.

He becomes tense almost instantly at the touch. It takes a second for him to relax, his fight reflex tapering off slowly. I shift closer, tracing the length of one side. He keeps very still.

"What do the other apartments look like?" I'm curious, but I also have no intention of leaving. Eric's jaw tightens the tiniest bit, and he keeps his arm over his eyes.

"Small. Plain." He answers coolly. "Thinking of moving?"

My legs are pressed against his side now, and I bend over him, my fingers making their way up his neck. When my fingers trace up from the bottom of his tattoo, his hand flies off his eyes and catches my wrist. His eyes open, unamused.

"What are you doing?" He sounds harsh in the quiet room, but I try to focus on what I was doing.

"Did that hurt? That tattoo." I've wanted to ask him for some time now, but the moment has never really come up. I take in the dark blocks against his skin, my fingers still on him.

"No." His tone tells me that he is suspicious of my actions, and my stomach tightens in response. I get the impression he is not one for gentle touches; giving or receiving. There is nothing hidden behind mine, I simply want to explore the skin he's so willingly exposed.

He loosens his grip the tiniest bit, and I wiggle my hand away. "How about these?" I graze the bottom of his earlobe. He closes his eyes for a moment before answering in a much more even tone.

"No."

I smile at him, and I let my fingers move upwards. He seems complacent for the moment, letting my fingers work over him. They trace over his temple, noting the soft skin and the hesitation in his eyes. I press very gently between the piercings above his eyebrow. They confuse me; I was expecting some sort of bar between the two studs, but there is nothing beneath his skin.

"No." He answers before I can ask, and I watch his lips twitch.

"Does anything hurt you?" My fingers explore the longest part of his hair now, and I almost jump in celebration when his eyes slowly close. I comb through the long strands softly, taking note of the slight bend to his hair. I wondered if that's why he keeps it so closely cropped. It's nothing like Landon's hair was; his was always long and tangled and I never once minded. But Eric's is so much softer, especially the sides of it.

"No."

His breathing is starting to slow a bit, and he shifts on the bed slightly, making himself more comfortable. "Are you going to fill out your paper?"

"No." I answer with a smile, and this time he huffs a bit. He keeps his eyes shut, and I continue my exploration. His lips are my last stop, the skin warm and soft beneath my fingertips. I wait for him to make a comment, to bark some sort of innuendo my way, or to simply shove me away from him.

He doesn't.

Probably because I can hear the slow and deep breathes coming from him, I can feel the way his lips have parted slightly, and I can see the way the tension is completely gone from his form.

If only the world knew Eric Coulter could fall asleep right in front of you, so long as you stroked his hair.

 

 

He's gone before I even wake, leaving me in a tangle of cold sheets and my own disappointment. I'm dangerously close to being late again, and my mind thinks back to Eric growling that he wouldn't be alarm clock. Those days seem much too far behind me; the first few nights I spent in this apartment were fraught with apprehension around him. And to think that I now lay in his sheets, sometimes curled against him, plotting a way to be closer to him.

I get ready quickly.

I have two more practice simulations left, a week of survival training, and then the final rankings will be posted. I can only hope that I'm ranked high enough to stay in Dauntless, to select a position that I will enjoy, and to have proven my worth here. Being Factionless isn't an option, and neither is returning to Amity.

I quickly head down towards the training center.

I round a corner without looking, almost colliding directly into Max. He breaks into a wide grin, and his hand steadies my shoulders.

"Everly! Good morning."

"Morning, Max." I smile at him, hoping that I won't have to explain my lateness to Four. He was less than cordial the last time, even with my offer of a muffin.

"On your way to training? How's it having Four oversee your simulations? I know Eric was unsure about handing you over to Four, but it seems like you've continued to do well." He seems proud of me, but then again, he could just be happy that Eric's kept me alive.

"Thank you. It's fine. Four is uh a really good instructor as well." I fumble with my words for a moment.

"Better than Eric?" Max asks, doing little to hide his curiosity. I shake my head.

"Nah, Eric's way better." Max lets out a loud laugh, and pats me on the shoulder.

"I figured you'd say that. Well, I won't keep you." He waves me on, and I nod my thanks.

"Oh, Everly. One more thing!" He calls out as I step away. I turn back, my eyes falling as he pulls a paper out of the file he's holding.

"I approved your position request. I know it's early, and I know that rankings aren't even close to being finalized, but I don't foresee any problems with you filling in one of the spots. I figured I'd give you the good news now. A little push to get you through these last few weeks." He hands me a white paper, and I stare at him confused. I have no idea what he's talking about.

"My request? I didn't.." I glance down at the paper in my hand.

My eyes skim it over quickly, and my chest constricts for a moment.

My name is at the top, written as Everly Coulter, and the boxes have been neatly checked and filled out.

Leadership Apprentice Program. Yes.

Room Reassignment. No.

Transfer. Yes- Amity.

It continues all the way down the page.

Eric's name is signed at the bottom of the paper, atop the line labeled Instructor. He filled it out. The entire thing.

"I didn't know you got it already." I try to smoothly recover from my surprise. My gaze meets his. "Who's in charge of the Leadership Apprentice Program?"

Max's smile should have been my answer.

"Eric."


	10. Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you! You guys have written the sweetest reviews and sent the nicest messages. I appreciate every single of them.
> 
> And I love those of you who picked up on Eric's cold showering habits. Poor guys gotta deal with it somehow ;)
> 
> The next update should come fairly soon, too! If I can, I will try to finish it by this weekend. Sadly, I am not quite inherently wealthy, and must sometimes slave away on Sundays.

"Are you going to tell me how it was, or are you and Eric just going to stare at each other from across the hall?"

Christina's words make me laugh, and I take a small bite of whatever I'm eating. Today must be mystery meat casserole, and it leaves me almost wishing that I'd just eaten upstairs with Eric. At least his food is identifiable.

Eric had been less than enthused when I mentioned I was eating with Christina. She had pushed for sooner rather than later, so we decided to just meet for dinner the same day. I had actually looked forward to it; eating with Eric isn't unpleasant in the least, but it feels good to sit with someone different. Especially another girl. After my quick visit to Amity, these past few days have had me missing my friends terribly.

I am not at all surprised when Eric shows up in the cafeteria shortly after we start eating. He walks in with an air of arrogance surrounding him. There's a haughtiness in his stance, a superior ease with which he holds himself. From my angle he looks cold and untouchable, his dark gaze sliding over every face in the room. A few from Four's initiate class shrink back, so as not to draw attention to themselves. I take great pleasure in the fact that Derek is one of them.

A few eye Eric with curiosity, and he finally stalks over to someone I don't know, a man with dark hair and beady eyes, before his stare finds me. His expression doesn't change, and it lingers on me until he unceremoniously sits himself down. The man next to him begins to talk immediately, pleased with Eric as his new audience.

"I'm not staring at him," I tell Christina, slightly indignant. "Who's he sitting with?"

Christina throws me a look. She turns her head to take a quick look. Eric's gaze is fixed on his companion, a frown on his face. She then lets out a snort of laughter.

"That's Peter. He trained under Eric and Four." She turns back again, watching Eric's scowl deepen. He drums his fingers on the table in front of him in agitation. "We were in the same class. Peter worshipped the ground Eric walked on. He's been vying for an assistant trainer spot with Four, but Four isn't happy about it. He's probably gonna spend their whole dinner trying to persuade Eric to put in a good word for him."

"So, Eric used to be one of the trainers?" I take a sip of my drink, trying to wash down whatever it is I'm eating. "I thought he was one of the leaders."

"He is. He helped out with Four's class from time to time. Mostly as an intimidation tactic, I think. He was utterly merciless with our class." She gives a slight shiver. "But we managed to survive." She furrows her brow for a minute. "Mostly."

I don't really want to know the implication behind the last part of her statement, so I nod and change the subject. "And Four, why did he and Tris…?" I trail off, and I glance around quickly. There's no sign of either of them here. I can only assume Four went home to nurse his hangover.

"They just didn't have as much in common personality-wise as they thought they did. They're from the same faction, but they butted heads more than they got along. I think maybe Four expected more out of their relationship than she did, but Tris doesn't talk about it much." Christina hands me a piece of bread and a plate of butter. "This food is disgusting."

I laugh at her. "Seriously."

I can almost feel Eric's stare on me, but when I look over to where he is sitting, he and Peter are gone.

I don't know if I'm more relieved or disappointed.

"Four is…complicated," Christina tells me, her tone low and serious. "I think he feels like he's responsible for you, that he's got to protect you, even though you seem to be doing just fine on your own. Tris told him to leave you alone."

That surprises me, and I look up at her curiously. "Why does she want him not to talk to me?" I don't really know Tris. Aside from our minor conversation in the hallway, I've only seen her around the compound a handful of times. She's always busy, head held high and a self-assured look on her face.

"She knows he can be a little overbearing with his protectiveness." Christina makes a face. "I wouldn't worry about him. He's harmless, and his intentions are good. He just wants to make sure you make it through training. I think he was worried Eric would eat you alive." She stops and her eyes glimmer at me. "I mean, we know Eric wants to."

I try not to let myself feel embarrassed at her comment. If only she'd seen me last night, my fingers still tangled in his hair long after he'd fallen asleep.

"And you never answered my question." Her voice hits a higher, sing-song tone, and I am immediately reminded of Amity. My friends and I used to spend hours in the fields, giggling and teasing the days away as we watched the boys working, their tanned bodies shirtless in the warm sun. If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost feel the sun on my skin.

"It was nice," I tell her casually, trying to keep my voice level.

A look of utter disbelief crosses her face. "Nice? Eric kisses you and all you can say is 'it was nice'? You and Tris really would get along." She takes a bite of her food, grimacing again. "I say we skip this dinner and get dessert."

"Agreed," I answer. " And OK, it was more than nice. Until Four interrupted it."

Christina bursts out laughing, nearly choking on the vile dinner. "He did not!"

I nod, pushing the lukewarm noodles around my plate. "I think he'd been drinking long before he found us."

She nods. "I think he was with a few of the guys from the control room. He's been pretty torn up about the fact that James went after you. And then when he found out you fought Derek…" She shrugs suddenly. "Don't worry, it's the Abnegation in him. He's kind and noble, and he wants to help you as much as possible, but Eric's making it pretty hard for him. You'll be a full member soon, and he'll calm down."

She stands, shoving her tray to the side. "But now it's time we get some real food. And by real food, I mean cake."

 

 

Eric doesn't say anything when I slip into his bed hours later.

I wasn't planning on being gone for so long, but for the first time since arriving in Dauntless, I found myself not having a care in the world. Christina has an easiness about her. She is brutally honest — her raised eyebrow and wide smile at my plan had been all the confirmation I needed — and she is genuine with her words. I like that, and I like her. We had found a small nook in the Pit and had sat talking for much longer than I had thought we would. After a number of hours, I had found myself yawning, not even halfway through her curious questions about life back in Amity.

We had headed out together, parting ways at the elevator, and I promised her we would have dinner again soon.

I'm not sure if Eric is asleep yet, but his room is dark and I can somewhat make out his form in the bed. His breathing seems low and regular, and I quietly slip off my jacket. I kick my boots and leggings off before going back to my own bathroom. I fumble around for a minute in the dark room.

I haven't moved any of my stuff into his room.

Even the thought of it feels odd and imposing; I may have been invited to sleep there, but I haven't been invited to move in. I locate my toothbrush, and tiredly wander back to his bedroom. I finish up in his bathroom and set my toothbrush down on his sink before taking in my appearance.

I look mostly the same as I did back in Amity; all of my original features are intact — bright eyes and a pretty face, dark hair, and clear skin made pale from spending so much time indoors. But there is now a determination behind my eyes, and I look stronger, both physically and mentally. I've come pretty far on my own, and with Eric's help I'll go even further. I smile at myself, liking the person I've become.

I flick the light off and pad over to his bed.

It feels almost normal to slide under his sheets and settle into the spot where I've been sleeping. I can feel the warmth radiating off of him, and I press myself closer to him. He awakens somewhat, his eyes blinking sleepily.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," I tell him quietly. I stare at him for a moment, watching his eyes close almost immediately.

He doesn't answer me, he merely takes his hands, warm and large, and grasps my hips, gracelessly yanking me forward until I'm against his chest. He takes one of my arms, and manipulates it until it's around him, my fingers near his neck.

He sighs when I trail them into his hair, and his head falls forward until it touches mine.

 

 

In the morning, I rise and walk into his bathroom, still tired and slightly grouchy. I make a mental note to postpone my next hangout with Christina until I'm able to sleep in afterwards. I can hear Eric in the kitchen, searching for something in his cabinets, and I try not to think about what he has planned for today.

My eyes fall on his bathroom sink, and I freeze in place.

My toothbrush sits neatly in the cup, right next to his.

 

 

"Higher," he instructs me from below.

Survival training is a bitch, and a cranky one at that.

I found myself standing at the bottom of what was once a large, rambling structure, some sort of dilapidated set of train tracks. There are enormous, broken support beams that have long since crumbled; they jut out in odd places, giving way to all sorts of holes and caves. Eric had cheerfully instructed me to climb to the top. I tried to stop myself from looking at him like he was insane. I had a feeling the moment I uttered my reluctance he would scale the damned thing in a heartbeat.

I make it halfway before I start to question my life choices.

The snow is starting to fall in wet little flakes; they land on my face occasionally, but more often than not they simply melt against the cement, making it slightly slick.

My foot is currently resting on the smallest bit of concrete sticking out, and my arms ache as I pull myself higher. I work my way up, finding anything I can to grasp onto. I glance down at him, hoping he'll decide this is high enough.

"Higher, Amity. I didn't say stop." He's leaning against a wall, arms casually crossed in front of him. I watch a flake drift down onto him, landing lightly on his cheek.

"You're going to be really bored after I fall to my death," I yell at him, my grip slipping the tiniest bit. I push higher, ignoring the burning protest from my arms.

"Surely," he retorts. I glance down again, and I can see he's strolling towards the pillar I started on. He stretches easily, and almost weightlessly pulls himself up.

Crap.

I push myself forward, realizing he's going to catch up to me soon. This is easy for him — too easy. A smirk crosses his face as he glances up at me.

"You'd better hope I don't make it up there before you," he calls out while moving effortlessly, and I try to move faster. I find another broken chunk of concrete, and I shove my foot into it, lifting myself up. I'm closer now, maybe three or four more stretches to go.

He grabs my ankle, and I just about lose my grip.

"Eric!" I yell, clinging on for dear life. I glance down at him, and the ground sways dizzily below me. I'm not afraid of heights per se, but I am afraid of falling to my death. He lets go of my ankle, and the next thing I know he is right next to me. He gives me an unimpressed look before he reaches high, much higher than I can possibly reach, and pulls himself up.

I scramble after him.

We work silently; aside from the occasional swear escaping my lips, it is a quiet race. I try not to wince as my arms burn. I'm so close to the top that I can see the edge, and I can see the bottom of Eric's boots dangling above me. He goes up and over, and I groan in frustration.

I give myself the tiniest pause before continuing on.

I throw my hand up to grasp the edge of the dampening cement, and I move a little too quickly. My fingers slip, and my stomach drops as I lose my grip completely. It feels like hours, but it's only a matter of a split second before Eric's hand wraps around my wrist, then the other hand almost instantly after. He pulls me up with little effort, but he stumbles back a bit as my boots hit the edge of the cement and I fall forward. I land against him, knocking him back to the ground.

"Sorry," I mumble.

He shrugs, his arms around me, holding me against him. "Just try not to die during our next exercise."

 

 

By the time we make it back to the compound, the snow has started to stick.

Back in Amity, winter was my least favorite season. There is something downright unfair about the cold weather. While I like a cool breeze and brisk nights, I find it cruel to have to pile on layers of clothing just to feel remotely warm. The training uniform is warm, but it's definitely not warm enough to keep out the chill from the snow.

We weave our way through the compound and come to a stop in the training room. Four's class is busy scaling a mock wall. Most of them are decent at it; their upper body strength comes much more easily than mine did, but a few struggle.

I turn and catch Eric's eyes.

"So if they fall, they get the luxury of falling onto a mat?" I raise my eyebrow at him, wondering if he is secretly trying to kill me. "You made me scale the side of the train tracks!"

A ghost of a smile crosses his lips.

"If you are out there under some sort of attack, there will be no mats if you happen to fall," he tells me flippantly. He watches Four's class with careful scrutiny. "I wasn't worried you would fall."

"Well, I'm glad you're so sure about that," I mumble at him. His eyes narrow and he steps closer to me until his body touches mine. He bends down, and hisses in my ear. "Did you really think I would let you fall to your death?"

"Well, no." I turn to look at him. He looks mildly insulted. I decide it's time to move on quickly before he makes me run laps around the room. "Do you think I can climb that wall faster than Four's class?"

It's the right thing to say to him, because his eyes light up and he shoves me forward.

"Let's find out."

 

"Hold still."

I bite my lip as Eric presses something cold against the side of my ribs, and I try not to jerk away from the icy burn.

It turns out I can climb faster than Four's class, even with the ache in my arms. Scaling the faux rock wall is a million times easier, especially with the knowledge that a padded foam mat lies below me. Four's class is visibly annoyed, and Eric is visibly pleased.

Until the boy next to me loses his footing.

He loses his balance suddenly, his arms flailing wildly and he falls rather hastily. His balance off-center, he thrusts himself towards me, taking me down with him. We hit the mat with a large thud, and I land slightly atop him, the edge of his boot crushing into the side of my ribs. I let out a groan as the pain rips through my side, and try to shove myself upward. Before I can so much as garner enough energy to stand, Eric's hands are under my arms, pulling me upwards.

He helps me stand, while Four stands in the background, swearing loudly.

"Kevin! I said pay attention to where you place your foot!" Four yells, his arms crossed in front of his chest. I ignore him, mostly because I can't think with Eric's hands now on my waist. Warm palms slide under my shirt and up to my ribs. I cringe into him while trying to shove his hands off of me.

"That hurts, Eric!" He doesn't release his hold on me. Instead, he glares at Four, and I get the feeling this will only add fire to their feud.

"Why is your class always a complete disaster?" Eric snaps at Four. Four is staring at me with a look that plainly reads total disbelief and abject apology. His shoulders slump for a minute.

"They aren't," he answers back, his eyes darkening. "There's no way you can possibly think that happened on purpose."

Eric's fingers dig into my ribs, and I know it's unintentional. I can't help but squirm, trying to move away from the pressure. "Eric," I groan at him. He doesn't let go.

"Your class should be able to properly scale the wall by now." Eric is baiting Four, and I am stuck right in the middle of them.

"It's their first attempt," Four answers hotly. He takes a step towards us, but he's momentarily taken aback when Karl bounces over, an inquiring grin on his face.

"Everly! Dang, you are fast! Did you guys practice before us?" Karl, bless his soul, is beaming at me as though I've performed some miraculous feat. His timing is as terrible as ever. "You didn't look down once."

I grit my teeth as Eric's grip intensifies.

"Eric, I can't breathe," I tell him. He loosens his grip infinitesimally, and I try to smile at Karl. "No, I had lots of practice when I scaled the train tracks."

Karl's eyes widen, and he throws a look of disgust at the fake wall behind him. "Seriously."

I can see the look on Four's face, and I get the feeling that Eric's particular method of training is not exactly the norm.

"Yes. It was great. But I think it's time for me to go sit down now." The pain is burning, and my side feels hot and itchy, as though the skin has been shredded. "Eric, seriously, let go." His grip is starting to hurt again, and I am suddenly aware that his hands are both fully beneath my shirt.

"I can walk her to the nurse," Karl offers up. In this moment, I could kick him for his kindness.

"I'm good," I tell him. "Eric, let's just go."

"Maybe you should see the nurse." Eric's voice is smooth and even, and dread washes over me.

"Don't make me go to the infirmary. Please… can we just go? I just need some ice or something," I ask him pleadingly. I can't decide what's worse: him murdering Four in the middle of the training room, or him taking me to visit Arlene again. Or even worse, Karl taking me to visit Arlene. The last thing I want is Arlene and her mouth in front of someone from Four's class.

Eric presses his lips together and I can tell he's contemplating his next move. Four has thankfully walked away to check on his class.

"Please," I ask him softly. Behind us, Four's class is scrambling to finish their climbing. Kevin is groaning on the ground as Four tries to help him up. I put one of my hands on Eric's jacket, and try to pull him close. "Please. I'll let you look at it upstairs." The ache in my side is burning, but I don't think it's anything that warrants a trip to the infirmary.

At my promise, Eric relaxes. He looks less lethal than he did a minute ago. "Fine," he snaps. "But if anything is broken, I'm taking you to the nurse." I normally wouldn't have spoken up, but I want to be out of this training room and back home as soon as possible. I nod my head, wave Karl off, and wait for Eric to let go of me.

Fifteen long minutes later, I'm standing in his kitchen, my tank top shoved up high enough to expose my ribs, while Eric looks over the darkening bruise.

"It'll be sore for a few days. But nothing's broken," he tells me, and I squirm under the ice pack. "Hold still." He frowns at me. Both of his hands are on me now; one holding the ice pack against my ribs, the other on my hip. "Keep this on for a few minutes, then go take a shower. I'll start dinner."

"Did they fix mine yet?" I am trying to ignore the painful coldness of the ice pack. Even wrapped in a dish towel, it's still uncomfortable.

Eric throws his head back to me, his smirk answering my question.

 

 

His hands are on my ribs again, but this time, his touch is less inquisitive and more purposeful. Almost as if he's counting them, cataloguing the shape and order in his mind. I'm on my uninjured side, my back against his chest.

"Does Max care that you filled out my papers for me?" Given his subdued mood, I decide to use this opportunity to ask him the burning questions on my mind. It's easier to be brave when I'm not facing him. There's a certain glimmer to his grey eyes that makes it hard to form coherent thoughts when I'm around him, and he's well aware of it.

His fingers still for a moment, and I can imagine the smirk gracing his lips.

"No."

I shift slightly, and I can feel the pleasant stretch in my spine. "He doesn't care that we haven't even finished the training yet? That I could wind up not passing?"

Behind me, Eric stiffens for a moment. "Failure is not an option, Everly," he hisses. "And no, he doesn't care. It's my class, and I'll pick whoever I deem fit for it." His fingers resume their exploration, only this time they trace up higher. I try to stay as still as I can; his touch feels good, even against my sore side.

"And you picked me? Just me?" I take a chance and push myself back a fraction of an inch. My shoulders come in contact with his chest. "Is there anyone else in the class?"

"No. From what I've seen, there isn't anyone else good enough."

I should have known.

It doesn't bother me much. Eric is probably the best trainer I could have, and there is a part of me that is fine with keeping him to myself. A job in Dauntless leadership, however, is something I had never even considered.

"You know I don't want them to fail, right?" Eric's voice breaks through my thoughts, his fingers curling into my ribs. "We want the best here. We need them to come out of this training ready to fight. Four is too gentle with them." In contrast to his words, his fingers gently glide down my side. I shiver when he reaches my hip bone.

"Oh." My brilliant response blurts out before I can come up with a better one. It's hard to think with his hands on me.

"I'm not good with being gentle." He grazes my ear, and I am so warm I could burst into flames. "I suppose I could try." His grip tightens, fingers winding around the bone until I squirm against him.

"Eric!" His name comes out somewhere between a giggle and a plea. He almost instantly lets go, but his fingers find their way back up to the dark bruise. He very lightly skims over it, and I sigh against him.

"Should I have another option? In case I'm not cut out for leadership?" I ask him. It's not so much that I'm questioning my abilities. I'm starting to think I can do whatever I push myself to do. I just don't want this to end badly, to ruin my chances at a good life in Dauntless, or to embarrass Eric in the process. "Maybe, like, I don't know…" I trail off.

He picks up on my hesitation. "Like patrolling the fences? Working in the control room? You'd be bored out of your skull." His whole body presses against mine now, one of his legs sliding stealthily in between mine. "You'll be better off doing the leadership program."

"I see you also put down that I don't need to be assigned an apartment." I let myself enjoy this. He's wonderfully warm and solid behind me.

"You don't. I'm not helping you move all your shit just so you can still come sleep here," he says shortly. "Leadership training is a little more intense than initiation. It'll be easier if we can work on it without me having to hunt you down. You can just say here with…" He stops, not finishing his sentence.

The final word hangs in the air, unspoken but understood.

Me.

He wants me to stay with him. I can't help the grin that blossoms on my face.

"Good, because I don't want to have to walk all the way back here just to eat dinner with you every night."

He snorts from behind me. Eric removes his hand from my ribs, and instead flings an arm over me. I'm officially trapped against him, warm and safe. "Go to sleep, Amity. We can sleep in tomorrow."

We.

I replay the sentence in my mind, over and over, until I fall asleep against him.


	11. Braver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! As always, thank you so so so much for your awesome reviews. I get such a kick out of everyone's comments. I'm really glad you are all still enjoying this. I've never written anything like this, so it's cool to see such an amazing response to it. I read every single thing you guys send.
> 
> Hopefully this chapter will be worth the wait. I try to update every 3-4 days, but I appreciate your patience :)
> 
> Just a quick note: Eric and Everly get a day off in this chapter, and I was ridiculously tempted to have them stay in and watch Frozen since I went over this while watching Frozen. But if I can't handle Olaf for two hours, there's no way Eric could.
> 
> Thank you so much to Jaqueline for reading through this! You are a doll :)

His fingers are twisted in the nape of my hair, tightly curled against my scalp.

I awake before him; the sky is still dark and I am still tired. But my mind shakes me gently, forcing my eyes open. Eric's breathing is slow and deep, his body instinctively pressed against mine in his unconscious state. Sometime during the night, I'd turned myself towards him, angling myself against his chest, hip to hip, legs woven between his as though I could completely melt into him.

He doesn't move, aside from his chest rising and falling.

I press my head back against his chest. His words echo in my ear, even the ones he didn't speak. He wants me to stay here, worded under the guise of this leadership program; I can't find a reason not to, nor do I really want to try.

I lie there for a long moment, taking in the scent of his soap, the rough scratch of stubble on his cheeks, and the warm skin of his chest. I can feel every inch of him against me, his form completely relaxed in his deep slumber.

I snuggle closer to him, even though there is no space between us. He seems to like it that way. Even before I was invited to sleep in his bed, he had little problem closing any distance between us. There was something almost salacious in the way he held himself close to me, giving no fucks to anyone who may have thrown him a second glance. If it had been a purposeful plan on his part, it had certainly worked; he had allowed himself to slip under my skin without a second thought.

In the dark hours of the early morning, I let my mind wander.

Eric is so warm, his skin almost hot against mine. I wonder what it would feel like to have him on top of me, his weight pressing me into his mattress, his body joined together with mine. Or maybe beneath me, his head tilted up to look at me. Would he keep his grey eyes open and upon me? Would they flash cold even during the heated moment?

The thought makes my cheeks burn, but I find myself more and more curious. His brash claims that he cannot be gentle can't be entirely untrue. I let my fingers touch the soft hairs trailing down his sternum, and wonder how he would react. Would he let me touch him openly? Or would he shove my hands aside all together?

My experience is limited only to Landon. He had not had a rough bone in his body. Our nights together were the very definition of gentle; he never once dared to leave a mark on me, let alone whisper any sort of claims in my ear. I can't remember the last time my skin felt this electric, this alive, and I'm merely sleeping beside Eric.

I let my fingers stop when they reach his abdominal muscles, and I snake my arm back through his.

I can only dream in these sleepy hours.

 

The sun weakly tries to peek through the curtains.

I open my eyes, pleased to discover that I am, for once, awake before Eric.

Eric is half on top of me, his leg over the top of mine, and his arm tightly around me. I'm surprised to find that he's still asleep; I'm even more surprised to feel all of him pressed against me, including the very reason he's always up before me, and seemingly alert for our early training sessions.

Today that's not the case, and I suddenly feel flushed and overly warm.

I can't really move, and while it's not unpleasant, I'm not sure how Eric will feel if he were to wake in this position. I shift slightly, gently pressing him to the side of me, and I freeze as he shifts himself onto his back, one of his arms flinging outward.

I should follow his lead and hop out of bed. I should take my own shower and allow him to wake up without any mention of his situation. He hasn't mentioned it so far, and I have a feeling if he wanted it known, he would have been quick to bring it up.

Instead, I reach out for him.

I eye him carefully, taking in every inch of him.

I watch the way his stomach moves with each breath, the definition of his abdominal muscles deeply etched in the skin. I follow them downwards, and my fingers spread out until I find the sharp line of his hipbone. He's flaunted them in my face for the past few weeks, his low-slung pajama pants leaving nothing to my imagination. I decide the narrowing of his waist is fair game.

My fingers trace down until they reach the waistband of his boxers.

I'm embarking on dangerous territory here. My cheeks pink at the mere thought, but if I'm not going to be brave, I might as well go back to Amity and pick wildflowers. I touch the soft fabric of his boxer shorts, the material dark and rich against my skin. My eyes continue their descent until they reach the very outline of his erection.

He's far bigger than I would have expected, but to be fair, I have only Landon to compare him to. Eric wins by a landslide, and I know he would be pleased with that fact. I can just imagine the smug look on his face if I were to tell him.

I continue my exploration before my bravery runs out; I prop myself up on my elbow and slide my fingers beneath the waistband. There is an obvious destination in mind, but I haven't thought far enough ahead to decide what I will do when I get there. Touching him seems like an obvious choice, but for some reason it seems far more important that he let me.

It feels like several long minutes pass, but it's probably more like seconds. My fingers touch deceptively soft skin hidden below the slant of his hipbones — and then I hear him.

"I hope you aren't starting something you can't finish, Amity."

I jerk back at his voice, my fingers flying off of him as though they have been burned. He's smirking down at me, his eyes half-hooded with sleep and lust. I take a cue from him, and I bounce off the bed before he can utter another word.

If I thought Eric would leave me alone after catching me with my hand down his boxers, I might as well have just shoved them down his hips and carried on.

I finish my shower quickly, trying to weigh my options. He wasn't mad at my exploration, but I will not live this down. Even if he decided he never wanted to speak of it again, my cheeks will forever darken knowing he awoke to find me in such a position. I shove my shirt over my head, and stand there, trying to breathe evenly. I am reaching for my leggings when I'm graced with Eric flinging the door open.

For a moment, I forget that I need air to breathe.

He saunters in behind me, still clad in nothing but his boxers. I try to focus on myself in the mirror, and not on whether or not he's still aroused. It doesn't matter. I could be painting the bathroom walls and I have a feeling it wouldn't stop him.

He comes to a halt behind me, so close to me that his chest touches my back, and he places his hands on either side of the sink.

"You seem awfully stuck in this bathroom." His lips are purposely against my ear now, and I try not to let out a squeak as he presses himself firmly against me. He meets my eyes in the mirror, and he looks utterly pleased with himself.

"I…I'm getting dressed." It's all I can manage. His hands leave the sink and find my hips, his fingers pressing against the fabric of my underwear with a definite intent.

"You gonna tell me what exactly you were doing back there?" His words are dangerously low, his voice rich in the small bathroom. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

If I were braver, I would have a witty answer for him. Maybe even tease him the tiniest bit. But I am not that brave. Not yet, at least. Instead, I can only stare up at his reflection and try to slow my racing heartbeat.

"We could just finish this right now. Right here." He squeezes tighter, pressing himself closer to me. I can definitely feel him, every single inch of him. His head bends forward to my neck, and I feel his lips against my skin. "You're awfully quiet, Amity," he drawls. When he roughly drags his teeth across my shoulder, I shiver.

All of a sudden he jerks himself back, and stares at me for a moment with a hard gaze.

"I think I'd rather you continue your exploration in bed. Not here. Not right now." He lets go of my hips, and stalks into the shower. I can barely comprehend that he's turned it on, and I can't form a coherent thought until his boxers hit the floor next to my feet.

 

The girl that cuts his hair seems nervous.

She keeps watching me out of the corner of her eye, her clippers expertly buzzing the sides of his head. I watch her, more curious than anything, and almost invisibly-short hair falls to the floor. She's quick and precise, and pauses only to dampen the top of his hair. The wave appears almost immediately, and she neatly combs through it, pulling it taut and confirming the length with him.

Eric sits in the stylist's chair, his gaze utterly bored.

I've been gifted with the day off, something that delights me. I'm fairly certain Four's class has had a few days off from their training; I have had none. While I know it's pushed me further, and I'm better off because of it, it was unbelievably delicious to wake up without Eric's alarm blaring at me.

I curl my feet beneath me and continue watching. Eric finds my gaze in the mirror and stares at me as though he's being interrogated. In reality, the girl cutting his hair has only uttered a handful of words at him. She's thrown me a few curious looks, as though she isn't quite sure she believes I exist.

"Aren't you getting your hair cut as well?" She looks mildly nervous at the thought, her stare falling to my long hair. I'd never even considered cutting my hair. It seems easy to pull it away from my face; Eric's training has left little time for any style fancier than a ponytail or bun.

"I think so," I tell her. "I hadn't really decided." Eric's eyes are still on me, his gaze unreadable.

She nods at me, and stops to turn to the girl next to her. "Can you take her?"

Ten minutes pass before I'm led to the chair next to him. My hair has been washed and detangled, and the girl who will cut it, her vibrant pink hair cut into a sharp bob, throws a hesitant look at Eric.

"What do you want me to do today?" She looks uneasy, as though she doesn't really want to be the one in charge of cutting my hair. Eric's gaze is sharp now, and he has the same cranky look that he did when Karl walked me into his office.

"Can you just trim the ends? I have to put it up a lot during the day," I tell her. I'm not overly attached to it, but I don't want her to chop it off. She nods, relief obvious on her face.

Eric finishes before me; his hair is styled back in its normal fashion, sides buzzed to almost nothing and the top combed back smoothly. He stands next to the chair, and smirks down at me. My hair has been parted and clipped into several sections, and I can barely see him through the pieces placed in front of my face.

"I'll wait you for up front." His stare is somewhat curious, but he's gone without another word.

My stylist continues trimming and finally reaches the section in the front. She combs it in front of my face, pulling at my long bangs.

"Is that her?" I can hear the whisper coming from behind me, and two other girls are paused a few feet away, nosy gazes trained on me. "I hear she's always with him. Like, they're never apart." The gossipy tone drips with something akin to envy.

"We should ask her how he is in bed." The statement is followed by a girlish giggle. The girl cutting my hair freezes, her fingers angling from my eyebrows towards my cheekbone.

"Sarah," she angrily whispers. "She can hear you." Her pink hair almost shakes as she pulls my bangs down. "And he's up front." She angles her scissors and meets my eyes through my hair. Her friends glower for a moment, before they reluctantly head to the back. The stylist hesitates for a moment, the blades poised to cut my bangs.

"Is it true?" she asks me, suddenly brave. Her hands hover in place. "I'm just wondering. Your ticket has his last name on it."

"Obviously," I answer, without thinking. I didn't sign myself in. I saw him write only his name down at the counter, and I'm assuming he gleefully wrote his last name on the ticket.

It isn't until after her shears close in surprise, lopping off a large chunk of my bangs, that I realize that I should think before speaking.

Eric's eyes fall somewhere onto my bangs, his eyes squinting at me with a smirk on his face.

"Yes. She cut them off by accident. She asked if my ticket had your last name on it, and I answered 'obviously', and she closed her scissors." I scowl at him and shake my head. The bangs aren't terrible; they hit just below my eyebrow and swoop downwards, but every few seconds they fall in my eyes.

"Could be worse," Eric answers, and his eyes fall to the length of my hair, and I dare to think he looks pleased that it's still close to the length it was before.

"Can you start writing my real name?" I ask him, shoving the shorter bangs out of my eyes. A flash of amusement crosses his face and he looks smugger than ever.

"I wrote Everly," he answers, pleased with himself.

I elbow him as I stomp past.

 

We eat lunch with Jason and Man Bun.

I spend most of my time ignoring their stares and even more of my time trying to figure out a way to make them focus on something other than me. They watch Eric and me carefully, looking for the smallest proof of something, anything. When Eric accidentally elbows my arm, mostly because we are shoved close together due to the sudden addition of Karl and his friend, Jason and Rylan exchange a weighted glance. Eric notices, but his glare isn't cold enough to stop Jason's raised eyebrow.

"So, are you guys... uh... doing anything today?" Jason is trying to keep the conversation going, but his words sound forced. He's more interested in waiting to see what Eric will do next.

"Training," Karl announces, mimicking the bored tone he's heard in Eric's voice. "I think we only have a few sessions left before they announce the final rankings. I think the real training will start once we're actual members." He smiles at me, and I can't help but smile. His adoration of Eric is amusing, even if Eric seems oblivious to it.

His friend nods, his gaze daring to stray in Eric's direction. "Yeah, Four's cool and all, but…" He trails off, stuffing his sandwich in his mouth.

Karl and his friend are a welcome distraction.

It is a brief one, however; Four appears behind them, looking at his watch in an exaggerated manner. "Guys, we've got five minutes until the next session." He doesn't look pleased to see his class sitting at our table, and I'm sure he'd be less pleased to hear that his coolness factor was up for debate.

They both groan and reluctantly stand. "Guess we'll see you around Everly," Karl announces. Beside me, Eric glares at him, his gaze narrowing. Jason and Rylan raise their eyebrows.

"Bye, Karl. Bye, CJ," I tell them sweetly. I wave at them, sorry to see them go. They were a nice break from Jason's and Rylan's stares.

"Well, aren't they lovely," Jason throws out, grinning at me. "They seem to really like you, Everly."

I throw him a dirty look. I know what he's doing, and I'm not about to spend the rest of my first day off dealing with Eric's drastic mood change. "I barely know them," I tell him.

Beside me, I can feel Eric getting restless. His knee bumps mine, purposely, before he finishes his drink. "You almost done? We have a lot to do this afternoon."

His words crush my soul; the last thing I want to do is start my training again today. Maybe I misunderstood him, I think dully, feeling my shoulders slump. But I will push on. I'm determined to make it here, and a few more days won't kill me.

"I'm done," I tell him, and I stand and pick up my plate.

His eyes watch me, even more so than Jason's and Rylan's.

 

Turns out Eric's definition of "a lot to do" means that we head back to his apartment, where he works on his tablet while I curl up on the couch next to him. I shove my bangs out of my face, and lose myself in the book I found shoved in the corner of his bookshelves. I was surprised to find it; jammed in the corner as though it shouldn't be seen, a small paperback book with a boy on the cover.

I wonder if someone else placed it there. For the life of me, I can't imagine Eric reading anything that isn't completely fact-based, let alone a story about wizards. I kick my shoes off, pull the overly-soft, grey blanket over me, and start reading.

I can identify a bit with this boy who's been thrust into a whole other world with barely a moment's notice. While I had plenty of time to make my decision, and no owls had delivered a letter from Eric to me, I could understand the allure of the whole new world in front of him.

I make it a few chapters in before I realize Eric is staring at me, a weird expression on his face.

"Where did you get that?" he asks, his brows knitting inward. He's staring at the book in my hands with a curious look. I feel a rush of uncertainty wash over me; perhaps I'm not really allowed to touch the books on his shelves.

"I found it. On one of the shelves. I didn't think you would mind. It doesn't seem like anything you would read," I tell him. I shift myself closer to him, unaware of how closely I'm already sitting. I look up at him, his eyes still on the book. "Do you want me to put it back?"

He shakes his head, and his face forms its trademark scowl. "No. But reading about wizards isn't going to help you pass your training." So he does know what it's about.

I find myself glaring at him from below my bangs. I shove them to the side, for the millionth time. "You said we had a day off."

"I did."

"So I'm using my day off to read something not related to the training," I tell him, crossly. He stares at me for a long moment before smirking.

"Fine."

"You said it was a day off!" I protest, knowing very well that he's about to suggest I read something with a title like 50,000 Ways to Kill Your Opponent By Glaring.

He shrugs, and turns back to his tablet, apparently done with this conversation. I watch as he reads for a moment, his gaze fixed on the screen.

"Are you working?" I ask him.

"No," he tells me, not bothering to look up.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Just because I know that he likes my fingers in his hair doesn't mean he will be any less difficult.

"Look at this." His voice has a pleased tone to it. He moves his arm, placing it on the back of the couch, and I scoot closer to him, settling against his side. I glance down at the tablet, and watch as Four's class scrambles to scale the wall again. I try to focus on what they are doing, but all I can focus on his how warm Eric is, and the fact that I can smell his shampoo.

"Your little friend isn't half-bad," Eric murmurs beside me. I watch as Karl scales the wall fairly easily, triumphantly repelling himself back down without the slightest indication of fear. I'm tempted to ask Eric if he spends all of his free time spying on Four's class, but I feel his fingers making their way into my hair.

"He's alright," I shrug, and lean my head back into his hand. He's playing unfair; his fingers graze my neck, then tighten until I look up at him. Memories of this morning flash in my mind.

His eyes are dark, but they don't hold his normal cold stare. They meet mine, and I will myself to not turn pink under his stare.

"He can't be in my class. So don't even ask," he tells me sullenly, and I find myself laughing at his petulant tone.

"I wasn't going to," I answer him, and before I can even form a theory as to why Eric is so concerned about Karl, Eric closes the distance between us, and his head tilts until it rests against mine.

It is the moments like this where time stops, where I find myself wondering how he can allow himself to be perceived as so cold, distancing himself from everyone and anyone. He stays still, and he swallows a second before his nose touches mine. My lips part on their own, and I wait for him, debating whether or not I am brave enough to kiss him.

"Finish your book, Amity."

He moves his head back, and returns his gaze to the tablet. A blonde-haired boy from Four's class loses his grip, and I watch him fall, gracelessly flailing his arms.

Eric resumes weaving his fingers in my hair, twisting the dark strands and humming contently to himself.

He will be the death of me.

The slow-burning, drawn-out death. It will be painful and terribly wonderful, and I get the feeling it won't occur until after I've finished this damned training.

 

Tris corners me on my way to the dining hall.

Eric and I sat on his couch for the rest of the afternoon; I was comfortably settled against him, lost in the world of wizards and their spells, and his hands stayed on me the entire time. He's allowed me to get closer to him with each day, but how long will it last? My plan is a simple one; I'm not going to give him the opportunity to close himself off. He seems to thrive on our moments together, as though his life has not had many like them.

I left while he was making something for dinner, on a quest for dessert. Dauntless seem to really enjoy their sweets, and Eric waved me off in search of some. I was almost there when Tris stopped me, a stack of files in her hand.

"Everly!" she calls out, striding towards me with purpose. I still don't know her very well, but Christina always speaks highly of her. She is hardworking, and she seems to keep mostly to herself.

"Hi, Tris." I stop in front of her, and she takes a step towards me, almost backing me into the wall.

"Did Eric mention anything to you about next Friday?" she asks me, her gaze on mine. I shake my head at her, curious as to what she's talking about. She looks around, as if she doesn't want to be overheard, before she speaks. "There's an annual leadership dinner. Attended by all of the faction leaders."

"Oh, well, that sounds fun." I have no idea why she's telling me this, but she's looking at me as though I should have caught on right about now.

"Has Eric asked you to go with him?" she blurts out. She shifts uncomfortably, clutching her files. "Max told him he had to ask you and not just order you to go with him."

I try to bite back the laugh in my throat. I would have killed to be there for that conversation. "He hasn't," I tell her.

She doesn't look surprised. "I figured. I'm going to be there, too. I thought maybe you would want to…" she pauses for a second before grimacing, "Get ready together? I'm not really great at all that kind of stuff, and Christina mentioned that you only knew a few people here." She stops, and her eyes look hopeful. "Christina said she would help us. Well, me. You look fine."

I could hug her.

Well, if she didn't look so downright nervous about her offer. I nod my head at her, smiling widely. Maybe I could have two friends here.

"I'd love to. I mean, if Eric ever invites me," I offer up. She smiles, a real smile crossing her face.

"He will. He's probably trying to figure out how to ask nicely," she snorts. Then she freezes. "I mean, sorry. I'm sure he's nice to you. At least, he seems like he's nice to you."

"It's alright. I know what you mean." A sudden thought occurs to me. "Wait, are you going with Four?"

Her face drops for a second at his name, and she shakes her head. "No, I'm going with Jeremy. He's still in training for leadership. He's an assistant to Max right now. Four and I are just friends. I guess we weren't really cut out to be anything more." She glances around as though she's divulged some top secret information. "Ok, so you'll let me know when he asks you, and we'll make plans then?"

I nod at her, feeling surprisingly happy.

I might just fit in here.


	12. War Games and Asking Nicely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited and approved by BK2U.

I wait impatiently.

All throughout dinner, I watch Eric for any sign that he might even be considering it the appropriate time to ask me to join him at this leadership dinner. He doesn't, however. He merely shows irritation — either from my intense staring or from the fact that I left him high and dry in bed this morning.

"Do you want to ask me something, Amity?" He questions me between bites of his salad. He's chewing the lettuce as though he's angry at it, and his eyes are unenthusiastic.

I shake my head, smiling at him and trying to tone down my intense gazing. I don't need him to think I've lost my mind, but all I can think about is him asking me to join him at this prestigious dinner. Tris didn't really go into much detail about it, but it was enough for me to feel excited. Amity is big on all kinds of social gatherings, especially those that focus on celebrations, and I don't know if that part of me will ever really go away.

There is a small part of me that feels ridiculous. This isn't some picnic date in the fields; hell, it isn't even something he's come up with on his own. He might not even want me to go with him. The humiliation will be mortifying if it turns out he's being forced to bring someone and I'm the closest thing he's got to a date. But after our little event this morning, there must be some hope that he's remotely considered me as more than just another initiate. I can't pinpoint the exact moment I started to hope he would. It has built up slowly, only now almost reaching a breaking point.

I am brought back down to Earth by him clearing his throat. I shove my bangs out of my eyes and focus on my plate in front of me. He's sitting with his legs spread apart further than necessary, his elbow resting on one of them.

"No, I'm good," I tell him sweetly. I stab at my chicken salad. "I was just thinking…"

He smirks. "And exactly what were you thinking about so intently?"

"That it's time for dessert."

Eric rolls his eyes, but he doesn't argue.

 

Instead of getting ready for bed, I sulkily watch as Eric pulls one of his jackets on. He adjusts the collar, the black fabric dark against the pale skin that peeks through on his neck.

After we ate, he informed me that he had to partake in some sort of patrol tonight. A few of the other leaders will accompany him, along with some volunteers from the community. It sounds unassuming; there are reports that a few of the factionless have started some small riots in several of the factions. This is a precautionary measure, and Eric assures me he'll be back in a few hours.

"It's routine," he announces, zipping up the jacket. His eyes fix on me, the grey looking icy even in the dim lighting of his bedroom. "I'll be back before you wake up."

There is something oddly domestic about watching him get ready.

I sit on his bed, dressed in his shirt, watching him shrug on his Dauntless uniform: dark pants, a dark shirt, dark jacket and boots. He certainly looks the part — as sharp and intense as ever. He fidgets for a moment, adjusting the cuffs on his sleeves unnecessarily before he steps close to the bed.

"I could go with you. You know I can shoot a gun," I offer. It's not completely out of the question — he's trained me well enough. The dark look he throws at me doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"You'll stay here."

I sigh dramatically, but I know there's no point in protesting. I'm not a leader, or a volunteer, or an actual member of Dauntless. I'm also not wearing any pants.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Go to sleep, and I'll see you in the morning." He stands still in front of me, his spine straight and his eyes on me. Sometimes when I stare at him, I wonder how he didn't exist in my life before. I try to imagine him if he had been in Amity with me, with longer hair and less scowling. It doesn't work, and I doubt he'd find that image of himself amusing.

I slip off the bed, and prepare to make the trek to my own forgotten room. As of late, we've gone to bed at the same time. I don't know if his offer of sleeping in his bed extends to when he's not here. I am right in front of him, my gaze landing on his chest and I'm utterly surprised when he reaches down for me.

"You'll sleep in here. I'll be back soon." His words are terse, and I can't pretend I'm not the slightest bit relieved that I don't have to head to my own room.

His fingers find my jaw, gradually prying it up towards him. He doesn't say anything; he merely bends down, his eyes finding mine for a long moment, and brushes his lips against mine before I'm even aware of what he's doing.

He pulls away, his lips curling up, and he's gone before I can even begin to think about how gentle he was.

 

The knocking on the door is aggravating.

It takes me a surprisingly long time to fall asleep without Eric beside me. I shouldn't be shocked, but I've grown used to his large presence next to me, and now sleeping alone is downright miserable. My only solution is to curl into his pillow and bury myself far beneath his blankets. I feel like I have just finally fallen asleep when the knocking starts up and refuses to cease.

I sit up in bed, grouchily shoving the covers off of me and stomp to the apartment door. I immediately wonder if Four is outside the door, and if he is, I will lose my mind. I have no doubt that Eric would not be pleased to find him stopping by, especially if he's not here. I pause at the door, taking a deep breath and thinking of how to politely tell him to go home, and finally fling it open.

It's not Four. Instead, I'm greeted by a tired-looking Max.

"Everly," he greets me, before flicking his eyes behind me and into the apartment. "Sorry to wake you. There's been a small incident, and I need you to come with me." Panic wells in my chest at his words. He squints his eyes at Eric's shirt and my bare legs. "Well, after you get dressed."

"What happened?" My thoughts are racing: could something have happened to Eric? To Christina? To my family back home? Max merely waits patiently, and I hurry back to my room. I pull on a pair of leggings, a hoodie, and a pair of sneakers. I rush to the door, and Max gestures for me to follow him. He leaves without another word, not speaking until we are walking briskly down the hallway.

"Everything's alright. I didn't mean to worry you. There was an attack during patrol, and both Eric and Four were shot." His words seem to echo in the hallway, and I almost stop in my tracks.

"They were shot?" I ask, horror welling up in my chest. "Is Eric okay? Is Four okay?"

Max nods. "They'll be fine. It was an unfortunate oversight, and it's been handled appropriately." I trail after him, trying to keep up with his pace. He leads me down the hallway, and it seems like there is no end to it. Something pricks at the back of my mind.

"Wait, Max... uhh... sir... why am I coming with you?" Confusion clouds my mind for a moment. I'm not quite sure what I can do. I haven't exactly had any sort of medical training. Is he taking me to wherever they went to patrol?

Max grins smugly before turning to me.

"We need your help calming Eric down."

 

Eric is sitting up on the examination table, his shoulders squared and beyond angry as he shoves the nurse away from him.

"I'm fine," he snarls. His jacket is in a crumpled pile to the side of him, and he sits there glowering, shirtless. "I don't need you touching me."

The nurse protests, obviously irritated. "You were shot. I need to clean the wound out and remove any fragments of the bullet that may still be in your skin."

Max and I get closer to him, and I can see the entry wound on his shoulder. It's smaller than I'd expect, but it's weeping blood and looks rather fresh. The nurse reaches a gloved hand holding a pair of tweezers towards Eric, and he straightens himself up and nearly roars at her.

"Get away from me." His voice has an acidic quality, but beneath it, I can hear the rawness in it. I can see a small drip of blood coming from somewhere in his hair, and I try to ignore the painful clench of my stomach.

"Eric." Max's voice booms out, and Eric's head jerks towards us. For a fleeting moment, his eyes darken when they land on me.

"Why is she here?" he asks sharply. He doesn't meet my gaze, and I inch closer to the table. I feel as though I'm entering the den of some dangerous animal, one that would prefer to lick his battle wounds in private.

Max ignores him, and turns to the nurse, asking if he can see Eric's chart. They are momentarily distracted, and I take the opportunity to slip right in front of Eric. I step between his legs, and my eyes fall onto the open wound. He's watching me carefully, and he's so tense it looks like he's not breathing.

"Why did Max bring you here? You're supposed to be sleeping," he snaps again, his voice quieter now. I smile up at him the best I can, but I can't help but feel the terrible ache in my stomach. It's obvious he's not thrilled by my presence, and I get the feeling it has more to do with his wounded pride than anything else. I try not to take it personally.

I reach out for him, slowly as though he could strike at any moment, until my fingers find his. He jerks his head away from me, and I step so close that I'm against the edge of the table.

"Are you okay? I mean, really okay?" I ask him softly, and he turns his head back to me. He's serious-looking, and I'm worried he's hurt more than he's letting on. He finally opens his mouth, his words soft and low for only me to hear.

"Promise me you won't leave the compound without me. Ever." He swallows thickly, and I nod at him.

"I promise."

He looks down at our hands, my fingers holding onto a few of his, and he sighs, his jaw tensing.

"Someone's been teaching the factionless how to shoot. Preparing them for battle… I don't know who it is. And my head fucking hurts." He sounds defeated. The nurse appears beside me now, the tweezers in her hand and a grimace on her face. She stops when Eric visibly recoils, sneering at her.

"Arlene!" she yells out, and I flinch at the name.

Arlene appears moments later, and her smile breaks into a very self-righteous look when she sees me standing beside Eric. "Everly. It's wonderful to see you back here." She takes a quick peek at Eric and shoos the nurse away.

"Stand up and take your pants off. We'll try to make this quick, Coulter. We'll get you stitched up and you and Everly can head home," she says briskly. She crosses her arms and smiles down at him.

Eric glares, shaking his head. "I'm fine. And I'm not taking my pants off for you, Arlene."

"Were you shot in the leg, too?" I ask him, slightly horrified. I look down at his thigh. There is a large wet spot blossoming on his thigh, blood seeping through the fabric. Eric ignores me, still glaring at Arlene.

"I'll take care of it myself," he snarls.

"Don't be stupid," Arlene snaps in return. She's obviously dealt with him before; I doubt many others would dare call him stupid.

Sensing this will go on all night, I step between them. "Can you give us a few minutes?" I ask. Arlene stares at me, much longer than necessary, before sighing.

"Three minutes. We've got other patients waiting," Arlene answers in a curt voice. She gives me a quick nod before she walks away. I turn my attention back to Eric. He's still sitting on the table, as rigid as ever.

"Eric," I protest, my fingers finding his again. He averts his gaze.

"It's fine."

"It's bleeding pretty bad," I tell him softly. I don't really know that, but if Arlene said it needs stitches, it probably means it won't stop bleeding until it's been closed.

"Go back upstairs." His words are cold and angry.

"Can you stand on it?" I ask him. I ignore his tone. I have a feeling he isn't good with anyone seeing him in anything other than complete control. He finally looks at me, shrugging. "Try to stand up."

He slides off the table, landing on his uninjured leg first. He winces when he sets his other foot down, his grip tightening painfully on my hand.

"Fuck," he swears. He can stand, but it clearly hurts.

"Okay, so I think you should get the stitches," I tell him.

He shakes his head violently. "Let go of me, Amity." He starts to turn away, but for once, I'm faster. My fingers reach out and find the button on his pants. His eyes widen, and he tries to shove my hands away.

"Stop it." I smack at him, and undo the top button. I'm familiar with the sight of his boxers and the skin of his abdomen. He freezes altogether when I reach for the zipper and yank it down.

"This isn't exactly the scenario I had in mind when I imagined you taking my pants off." His dry words break the silence despite the tense atmosphere, and I try not to giggle. I shove his pants down his hips, and they tangle at his knees. He pushes himself back up onto the table with a loud sigh, and kicks his boots off.

"Ready?" Arlene's voice calls out. Eric grimaces, and I reach out and take his hand.

"Let her help you." My words are almost a whisper, and his eyes search mine. He finally nods, and curls his fingers tighter between mine.

Eric barely moves, even when the needle slides through his thigh, in and out, as his stitches are tightened. I try not to watch for too long — the sight makes my stomach turn. Beside him sits a small metal pan, filled with the fragments from the bullet; sharp shards of burnt metal mixed with blood. I focus on him as Arlene finishes up.

She fills a syringe with something, and he shakes his head.

"I don't want that."

Arlene ignores him, and stabs the needle into his thigh before he can object again. "It's a very mild painkiller. It'll take the edge off your pain." She places a final bandage on his leg, and takes a step back to admire her work. "You'll sleep well tonight."

Eric grits his teeth, his knuckles white against the edge of the table. "Can I go now?"

Arlene nods; she finishes filling out something on his chart before turning to me. "He'll probably be sore tomorrow. Make sure to keep an eye out for signs of infection. Redness, swelling, oozing. Bring him back here if you notice anything. Especially if he spikes a fever." She rattles the list without looking at me. I can see Eric glaring at her out of the corner of his eye.

"He'll be a little cranky tomorrow. But that's nothing out of the ordinary." Arlene finishes with a dry smile and shoves a paper at me. "Sign here."

I glance at the release form. At the top is a summary of the procedures performed, a list of symptoms to look out for, a notice to return in one week for a follow-up, and at the very bottom, my name as Eric's responsible party and emergency contact. I stare up at her, trying to hide my sigh.

I neatly sign Everly Coulter and hand it back to her.

 

Eric is almost asleep before I can even turn the lights off.

He's lying on his back, his posture expressing the extent of his exhaustion.

"You probably won't have your simulation tomorrow. I don't think Four will be released tonight," he mutters. He's got one arm over his eyes, and the other thrown to the side of him. "I'm not going to visit him, so don't ask me that."

I laugh, and pull my leggings off. It's either very late at night or very early in the morning, I can't tell which. The fatigue is setting in now that I know he's alright. "I didn't ask you anything," I inform him. I wonder if the drugs are making him loopy.

"Yeah, but you were going to," he mumbles. I climb into the bed next to him, and take a good look at him. I try not to focus on the areas of trauma. He received stitches somewhere along the part line in his hair, and in both his chest and leg. The bandage on his thigh is already dotted with tiny drops of fresh blood. I scoot closer to him, my hair falling to graze his chest.

He moves his arm from across his eyes to look at me.

"I was not," I tell him. I touch the skin around his bandage, before I settle against him. I lay my head on his chest, and stay very still. He doesn't tense quite as much, and I wonder if the medicine has slowed his reflexes. I don't focus on it long, for sleep comes easily for both of us.

 

I wake up to a knocking sound, and I push my head closer into Eric's chest to drown it out.

"Make it stop," I mumble against him. Still mostly asleep, he sighs heavily and his chest moves beneath me. It's too early for someone to be knocking. No one in Dauntless seems to be an early riser by nature, but whoever is banging on the door must have missed that memo.

Eric groans as the banging grows louder, and shifts underneath me. He's tangled around me, a warm mess of arms and legs, bandages and stitches. I try to stop the whine in my throat when he slides out from beneath me and sits himself upright.

He's a sight to be seen when he's half-asleep, with sleepy eyes and messy hair. My chest constricts when I wonder how many women have seen him like this. How many have shared his bed, listened to his heartbeat until they've drifted off to sleep. My brain tries to shut these thoughts off; they are pointless, curious questions that I don't really need the answers to.

"What the fuck," he barks to no one in particular. "Who is that?"

I shrug from my position below the covers, and make no move to get up and answer the door. He shoves me, none too gently, and groans. "Go see who it is."

"You go see who it is," I answer with my eyes shut. The last time I answered the door it wasn't exactly good news.

"I got shot. You go get the door." He sounds downright sulky, and I finally pry my eyes open.

"Fine," I sigh. I shove back the covers, and start to climb out of the bed, making a point to dramatically climb over him, settling atop his lap for a minute. He freezes below me, his hands suddenly landing on my hips.

"Really. You couldn't just go the other way?" He looks awake now, his grey eyes blackening at me. "I mean, I'm not complaining." He holds me in place, and my hands reach up to rest around his neck. I chew my lip, watching his eyes fall to my mouth.

"I'm thinking about asking for a room reassignment," I tell him very seriously. "And not telling anyone where I live, so that no one can wake me up by knocking on the damned door." His eyes narrow, and I smile at him. "Maybe I'll tell you. You know, in case you want to come by and make sure my shower's working." I try to wiggle away from him, planning to slip off his lap and answer the door, but his hands tighten their hold.

"You're playing a very dangerous game here, Everly." His voice is low, and my name comes out as a hiss. "One you aren't about to win." With that, he leans in until his lips touch mine. I nearly groan against him, the contact warm and inviting. We stay like that, his lips pressed sweetly against mine until the knocking grows louder.

"Go get the door." He breaks apart from me with a jerk, and his voice sounds strained. I can feel him beneath me, and I would bet a large amount of cake that he's off to stumble into another cold shower. I would also bet that he's not going to get let me get away with this for much longer.

"Fine," I answer, but I take my time climbing off of him. I ignore the groan from him and make my way to the door. I scowl at the clock on the wall, discovering it's only a little bit past eight. When I open the door, I'm less than thrilled to see Max again.

"Morning, Everly," he yawns. He eyeballs my shirt and bare legs again. "I just came by to check on Eric."

I squint at him, trying to figure out why he's up so early. "He's alright. He's in the shower now."

Max smiles at me, wide and tired. "Good. Four won't be out until late today, maybe tomorrow. I don't know what Eric had planned for you, but if you had anything scheduled with Four, it'll be canceled until further notice."

"Is he okay?" I ask him. I figure it's fairly safe to ask about Four since Eric isn't out here.

Max nods, frowning for a moment. "He got hit much worse than Eric. But he'll be fine."

Something seems odd to me, and I wonder why Four was out there with them. Last I knew he wasn't a leader, but I guess he could have volunteered. "I'll tell Eric."

Max laughs. "You do that."

He bids me farewell and I shut the door, wondering just exactly how one of the trainers in Dauntless managed to get himself shot worse than Eric.

 

Since I have the day free from simulations, and Eric isn't really in any shape or mood to do any physical training, I find myself heading out of his apartment. I'd watched him take two of the painkillers Arlene had sent him home with, and then half an hour later, flop down onto his couch with a tired look on his face. It's so out of the ordinary for him; even during our five a.m. training sessions he never looked anything less than alert.

Now, every ounce of intimidation is gone from him.

He looks like he feels crappy. His hair is nowhere near its normal state of perfection, and his skin looks pale and a little clammy. He's slumped on his couch uncomfortably, his injured leg propped up awkwardly. He's got nothing on but his boxers, and I watch him press his palms against his eyes. I can tell he's frustrated, and there's something humanizing about it.

I grab his pillow and bring it over to the couch. He looks surprised when I shove it behind him, and even more surprised when I throw the soft grey blanket over him.

"Going somewhere?" he asks, his eyes watching me carefully, as though this is some sort of trick. They look soft and sleepy, and it's a look I'm not used to on him.

"I am. You look like you're about to fall asleep, and unless you want me to stay here and read out loud to you…" I trail off. He settles back against the pillow, scowling at my words.

"I do not want you to read me a book about wizards."

"Did you know that they call non-wizards muggles?" I ask him, sitting down next to him. He closes his eyes.

"Did you know I don't care?" he retorts. He manages to look annoyed even though he's about to fall asleep.

I laugh and reach forward to smooth his hair back. His eyes don't open, but he sighs deeply. He's quiet now, and I keep my fingers in his hair for a few minutes. Just when I'm about to stop, his eyes fly open.

"I think Four has been teaching the factionless."

"What?" I glance at him. My hand stills in his hair. "Why would he do that?"

Eric shrugs. "That part I haven't figured out yet." He frowns for a minute. "But I will."

I untangle my fingers from his hair, ignoring the glare that breaks across his face, and smile at him. "I'm sure you will."

 

"I can't pierce her without Eric here."

I'm sitting next to Christina, behind her desk, and a tall man is scowling at me. Every exposed area of his skin is covered with tattoos: large, colorful patterns peeking out beneath his sleeves. He crosses his arms in front of him, and stares at me. "I'm not in the mood to deal with Coulter today."

"What?" I turn my head to look up at him. "I'm not here to get pierced." I have no idea where he got that idea. Christina and I had eaten lunch together, and I'd followed her to the tattoo parlor. We'd been idly talking for the past half an hour, but there had been no mention of anyone piercing anything. "And why would Eric have to be here? I can pierce whatever I want to," I tell him huffily.

He rolls his eyes at my response. "Right. I'm not about to dare touch his precious trainee, let alone take a needle to her skin."

I start to feel annoyed. I've worked really hard for my position in the rankings, and being dismissed as a precious trainee by someone I barely know is irritating.

"Excuse me. If I wanted you to pierce me, which I don't, I wouldn't need Eric's permission. He wouldn't care what I did," I snap at him.

"Oh, really?" He takes a step closer to me, squinting at me. "Because I get the impression he actually does care what you do."

"Go away, Bob," Christina says in a bored voice. She spins around in the chair and rolls her eyes at me. "He's just giving you shit. He's just jealous that you're ranking higher than he ever did."

"I'm not jealous." Bob looks suddenly embarrassed. He scratches at his neck for a minute before he storms off.

"He's an idiot," Christina announces, before Bob is even out of earshot. "He pierces Eric from time to time. He's probably heard your name and been warned to stay away," she says the last part with a giggle.

I look at her, curious at her last statement. "What else does Eric have pierced?" I've taken a pretty careful inventory of him, but I can only think of the piercings above his eyebrow.

"No clue. You'll have to be the one to fill me in on that answer," Christina says with a large smile.

I can't help but giggle, even as Bob pokes his head out, curiosity all over his face.

 

I'm not as great of a cook as Eric is, but I manage to make eggs, toast, and bacon while he showers for the second time today. I watched him peel off the bandage on his thigh, trying not to stare too long at the bloody mess. He looked with irritation at the wound, but stalked off towards the shower without a word.

He looked much better when I returned. He napped off and on throughout the day, and it seems to have helped. His eyes are brighter and the color is back in his skin. Eric reappears just as I'm finishing, his hair still damp. He looks confused when I hand him a plate. "Just exactly how long was I asleep?" He sounds a bit suspicious, and I smile widely.

"Just eat it, Eric," I tell him, taking a seat on the couch. I curl myself up next to him, and observe as he crankily eats his dinner.

"Did you think about Four any further?" I ask him, taking a bite of toast, pleased with my excellent cooking skills.

"I try to never think about Four." His eyes flash to mine, and he shrugs. "I'll run it by Max. I can take a small team down there and see if any of them want to talk."

I nod absentmindedly. I don't know enough about the factionless or about Four. I know that occasionally the factionless would wander into Amity in search of food or shelter, sometimes mumbling about cities beyond the fence. Johanna was politely helpful, but only to a point. I definitely don't know enough about Four to have a theory as to why he would want to teach them to shoot.

"How is he doing?" I ask him. Eric shrugs, unconcerned at best.

"No clue."

I could have guessed as much.

Eric's gaze is fixed on me, dark and annoyed. "Don't even suggest we go visit him."

I slink back against the couch. "I won't." I tilt my head up to him. "I met Bob today."

His eyes narrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"He said he wouldn't pierce me unless you were there." Eric's lip curls upwards into an amused smile.

"Oh, did he now?"

"He did," I answer. Eric is watching me, his gaze bordering on vulturine again.

"Did you want to get pierced?" He raises his eyebrow at me.

I shake my head at him, stabbing at my eggs. "Christina said he does your piercings." I look up to meet his stare. "How many do you have? Because I can only think of the two."

Eric exhales through his nose, and his lips smirk even harder. "That's because that's all you've seen. For now."

My eggs stick in my throat. I can't even imagine where he could possibly have another piercing.

"Tell me." I try to sound casual, like we could be discussing anything but where else Eric is pierced. My question is obviously amusing to him, because he nearly drops his plate.

"Think hard, little Amity."

I try to think of the only skin on Eric that I haven't seen.

He's watching me, his eyes dark and a very pleased expression on his face when it hits me. I subconsciously drop my gaze to his boxers, and my lips part in surprise.

"Oh."

I could die. I could burst into flames, right here on his pristine couch, and just wither away. I've just outright asked him about this piercing, and I'm completely unprepared for the answer. Beside me, Eric is perfectly still. He cocks his head for a moment, before he gazes at me with a look that can only be described as shameless.

"I didn't know you had such a dirty mind, Everly." He draws out my name, his tone rich with amusement. He stands suddenly, pulling himself to his full height. He looks down at me, holding my eyes with his as the air seems to thicken around us. He then smirks down at me.

"He stretches out the gauges in my ears every month. But I'm glad to know you were thinking of something else."

With that, he strolls away, leaving me to sit frozen on his couch.

 

I awaken to Eric's fingers sliding beneath the waistband of my underwear.

He's hovering somewhat above me, his knees spread so one is on either side of me, his fingers brushing against my skin. I jerk upwards, until I'm half-sitting.

He merely looks up at me from his position, and continues tracing my hip bone.

"Hi, Everly." He's shoved my shirt upwards and onto my stomach, and he's staring at my exposed skin with great intent.

"Eric!" I squirm beneath him, but my legs are held in place by his weight.

"Yes?" he drawls, looking back up at me. His fingers curve around my hip, and he moves himself upwards until he's directly over me. "Oh, did I wake you? " His hips press into my own, and I swallow.

Oh, God.

I can't think.

If he's this intense and all he's doing is teasing me, then I can't even imagine what would happen if this went any further. Or when it goes any further. Judging by the way his hips are unrelenting against mine, it will.

Eric bends his head down, finding my neck and pressing his lips there. I let out the smallest gasp, and his hand leaves my hip to find my hair, tugging my head to the side. He doesn't stop his assault on my neck; he sucks on the exposed skin.

"Everly." He says my name lazily, as though he has all the time in the world.

"Um… yes?" I can barely put together a sentence. His teeth scrape across my throat, and he works his way back up to my jaw. He continues his path until he finds my lips, and I swear he groans against me.

"Come to the leadership dinner with me." His voice is the lowest I have heard it, rough and scratchy. "Next Friday." He then kisses me roughly, his teeth crashing against mine. He doesn't stop, and between the feel of his mouth on mine and his hips working against mine, I swear I could shatter beneath him. He pulls away, his lips grazing over my cheek.

"Leadership dinner?" I gasp out. My brain is a jumbled mess, a hazy blur that can only register the feeling of him on top of me. I suddenly remember Tris's words in the hallway.

I can feel Eric smirking against me. "I know Tris told you." He suddenly pushes himself upwards, his arms flexed on either side of me bearing some of his weight. He looks satisfied with himself, and I suddenly remember Tris telling me Max had told him to ask nicely. This must be Eric's definition of nice.

I will my brain to form words in this moment.

"She mentioned…something about it." It's hard to think when he's on top of me like this. It's much different than messing around during our training sessions. There might have been some intent on his part, maybe an unconsciousness that drew him towards me. But this is purposeful, deliberate. His nose touches mine, nuzzling against mine in mock affection.

"I'll go," I tell him, trying to sound normal. I'm sure Eric can pick up on the high tone in my voice. He smiles against me, nuzzling me one more time before he shoves himself off me and reclines back on his heels.

"Good. Maybe after the dinner, I'll show you my other piercing."


	13. Enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> I'm a day or so late but this should make up for it. Kind of. Or make you really really ready for the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the sweet comments. You guys have made my life. This has been a blast to write :D 
> 
> Enjoy!!!!!

Eric gleefully shoves himself off of me.

His eyes are still dark, brimming with amusement and a hint of lust. My stomach drops as I sit upright, completely fed up with his teasing.

"Show me now." I demand, calling him on his words. Part of me thinks this is just a game; more innuendo to throw me off. The other part of me knows that there is a very distinct chance that he actually has a piercing that I haven't seen.

His eyes flash, his lips smirking. "Ah getting a little impatient there, are we Amity?" He takes a step towards the bed, his eyes fixed on me. I watch him stand there, his posture relaxed, enjoying this. He cocks his head to the side, a smile gracing his lips. "I guess you'll find out."

I've had enough. I can't take it anymore. I climb out from beneath the covers, and make my way to the end of the bed. I kneel at the edge of it, and glare at him.

"Take your boxers off." I tell him.

I watch as him continue to smirk and his eyes widen the tiniest bit. "No."

"Yes." I tell him through gritted teeth.

It takes me a second to move close to me, until his arms are around me, crushing me against him. His skin is warm against mine.

"Take them off for me." His voice is low. "If you're so curious."

His words are a dare, and I decide I'm not about to back down. I reach my hands down until they find the soft fabric of his boxers. I tug on the waistband, my fingers sliding below the fabric until they reach his skin before he none too gently shoves me back onto the bed. He's between my legs before I can react.

"Cute." His eyes are fixed on mine, and I squirm below him. His weight is atop me just enough to keep me in place. "You're braver than I thought."

"Take them off, Eric." I try to gain some leverage, but the mattress provides me with none. "I'm starting to think you're all talk." He pushes me further back, until I'm fully beneath him, his arms on either side of me.

"One more week." He hisses. His eyes seem bright now, the same as when Max seemingly challenged him to train me. "Then, you're mine."

I stare up at him, taking in his grey eyes and the smirk growing across his lips. "Get off me." I tell him, pushing at his chest. He moves easily, a smile crossing his face.

"Oh, so you don't like being woken up like this? Is it a little…" he pauses, pretending to think of a word. "Frustrating?"

I want to slap the smirk off his face. He knows damn well what he's doing. He's mirrored my actions from the other morning, but dangled the promise of a resolution in my face. I would have thought he would have snapped by now, only because I'm close myself.

"Why after the dinner?" I ask him, trying to ignore the burning in my veins.

"Because." He says simply. "I don't make a habit of fucking my initiates."

 

 

The next few days are tortuous.

Turns out that an injured Eric is a bored Eric, and a bored Eric is a dangerous Eric. He spends most of his free making sure his hands are on me. His fingers constantly find themselves in my hair, my neck, and occasionally the inside of my thigh.

That one is new.

His fingers graze over my skin, repeatedly, while he keeps his gaze forward, or on his tablet. He seems to have endless patience, exploring my leg as he desires. I don't completely mind it, but I find myself almost squirming on the couch as his fingers creep up to the hem of my shorts.

His smirk tells me he knows exactly what he's doing.

It was working, too. I was starting to get desperate. I had never felt like this with Landon; our relationship had been so easy, there was no back and forth. He never was anything but open and kind, his stare never anything more than affectionate. While it didn't take us a long time to fall into a relationship, it was never as intense as what has transpired with Eric.

So instead I sit, trying to ignore Eric's lingering stares all while wishing his fingers would creep just the tiniest bit higher.

 

 

Eric has movies.

Lots and lots of movies.

I don't know if I should be startled by my lack of observation, but there is a large screen mounted to his bedroom wall that I've somehow never noticed. Below it sits some sort of black box, with all kinds of buttons. The technology is outdated, but I only know this because Eric told me. I watch as he sighs in exasperation, inserting another disk into it.

"I'm not watching this one with you." He informs me, irritation creeping into his voice. He pushes the buttons on the remote before settling back onto the bed next to me.

I smile at my win. He can't not watch the movie if he's going to sit there, and he obviously hasn't stormed off into his living room yet. Though his posture stresses that he's annoyed at the takeover of his evening, he doesn't seem to be in any big hurry to leave.

I had stumbled upon them purely by accident, confused as to what was on the shiny disks. I'd never seen anything like them before. Amity was woefully behind on any sort of current technology. Johanna's office had held the mere essentials; a computer and a desk. It had a screen that she would sometimes sit in front of and talk to, and occasionally I'd catch a glimpse of talking heads, as though she were in some sort of meeting.

Technology wasn't Amity's strong point, but surprisingly it wasn't Dauntless' either. Their control room was impressive, but only those who worked in it really seemed to know what to do with it. Leaders had access to tablets and laptops, but the regular members really didn't. It wasn't frowned upon, it just seemed like a waste of time. I mildly agreed. There was so much to learn and do here, so many people to meet and places to explore. I'd been slightly disappointed to find that these disks simply held movies that would span two hours of my time.

Until I found the movie with the dinosaur on it.

Eric had looked less than pleased when he'd figured out I wasn't going to leave him alone until he showed me how it worked. Or turned it on for me.

The movie starts with a loud roar, the room darkening until the screen slowly brightens, flashing the title across the screen. Eric shifts so he's marginally closer to me, his knee resting against mine. I watch as the scene opens; some men trying to lock some sort of large cage while rain pours down. The one stumbles a bit, falling until a large claw rips forwards, catching the man's leg and dragging him backwards into the pen.

Eric shifts again.

I turn to look at him, the screen flashing the logo of a dinosaur skeleton. "You don't have to stay here. I thought you were going to meet Jason."

He looks up at me, his eyes in their familiar squint. "Later." He shrugs. I take a chance, and scoot over closer, until my shoulder is against him. He tenses for the slightest of moments before he raises his arm and pulls me against him. I settle against his chest, thinking how odd it is to feel his shirt against my skin. I'm more used to feeling the bare skin of his chest at night. I find myself snorting at the thought.

Eric stills for a second, before I feel his fingers find their way into my hair. He roughly yanks it out of the ponytail it was in, and shoves my hair to the side of my head.

"What's so funny?" He asks. I can feel his fingers travel along my neck, and I tilt my head towards him.

"I was just thinking how it feels weird to feel your shirt. Usually you don't have one on." I tell him and his fingers knot themselves in my hair.

"Is that so?" His voice has taken on a low tone, and I find myself leaning against him. I know what's coming; the same way I figured out his intimidation tactics earlier, I've learned that Eric thrives off teasing me. "You prefer me shirtless?" On the screen, a family screams as their child is attacked by these odd, tiny lizard like creatures. Eric tugs at my hair, until I look up at him.

"I do." I tell him cheekily. I watch as his lips twitch. "But I guess you'll need to keep it on to go hang out with Jason."

He huffs, and I press myself closer, until I rest against him. He can't reach my legs from here, so instead he just keeps his fingers in place, his cheek against my hair.

 

 

Eric recovers at an impressive rate.

He resumes our training with little fanfare; instead we fall right back into a routine of constant working out, survival training, and a few sessions of combat training. I point out that he's been shot not more than a few days ago, but he brushes it off.

"Nothing but a flesh wound." He tells me snidely, tossing me a cold look at my concern. I shrug at him, and resume aiming the rifle at the target in the field. We've traveled out with Lauren's class to the outskirts of the city. She's been given Four's class as well, and there seems to be an endless amount of people milling around, all talking loudly. She doesn't look happy to have them along with her own, and there's a definite distinction between the two classes.

Perched high atop of the wall, we are aiming out at targets that spot the distance. It's similar to the rooftop shooting, but these targets move every few minutes. I find it almost soothing to shoot at them; there's something to be said about how well I've been trained. I never in my life thought I would feel this way about such a violent activity.

Eric paces behind me, his eyes flashing through Lauren's class. They are good, better than Four's who seem to be still struggling to hit the targets. I hear him snap at a few, his words harsh and unimpressed. One of the Dauntless born looks stricken when Eric snarls at him, informing him that keeping his eyes on the target would be a better way to actually hit the target.

Beside me, Karl snickers.

"Fools." He tells me and I can't help but laugh. Eric wasn't thrilled when Karl had set himself up next to me, but I was glad to have someone I knew nearby. Today Eric had spent a lot of time pacing through the class, his face tight and annoyed as he watched them critically. He looked especially tense today.

It probably didn't help that I awoke to find myself almost beneath him, my hips pressing against him, searching for anything to help cure the ache that had settled between my legs. It was almost unbearable at this point. It didn't help that I spent my nights in his bed, and Eric's injuries did little to slow down his drawn out teasing. I had tried to shove him off me, nicely, but him fast asleep meant he was dead weight. After a few minutes of squirming to get out from below him, I realized I was he was waking up.

It was the hardness of him, pressing into my thigh that was the real indication that he was awake.

He'd blinked slowly at me, almost reluctantly pulling himself off of me at the same time.

It took all my restraint to stay still; part of me was desperate to lunge for him, to make him make good on every teasing promise he'd hissed at me. I couldn't see him putting up much of a fight, but there was one small thing that held me back.

Eric had a point.

I wanted to finish my training first.

I really, really wanted to finish it.

Whatever happened with Eric and I after would be just that. Something that happened after. I didn't want Eric to think that I couldn't make it on my own. It was important to me that he know I could thrive here. Even though he'd made his intent clear- I was to remain with him after the training, I still wanted to complete my initiation without any more distractions. Sleeping with Eric would complicate things beyond what they already were. I just needed to stay focused, to make sure I would actually be able to survive this next week.

Eric was making that unbelievably hard though.

He'd staked his claim; the same way Landon had kept his arms around me during the bonfires. Eric had signed every scrap of my paperwork with his own last name, he'd touched me long before I knew I wanted his hands on me, he'd trained me to be the best, he'd made me the highest ranked initiate, and he'd invited me into his bed. If I looked back on all of it, it all made sense. In his own way, he managed to display his feelings without actually doing it. It was foolproof. Safe. Had I refused to prize of sleeping next to him, he'd have known to stay away and I'd probably be none the wiser.

But now, I couldn't help it. Every inch of me wanted him, worse than the most desperate of all crushes. I wanted him and everything he encompassed. The cold stares and the scowls, the small smiles that were seemingly reserved for me, the nights in his bed with his legs between mine. I wanted it all, almost furiously, and all I had to do was make it another week.

I hit the last of me target and I find Eric staring at me.

If I didn't know him, I'd think he was displeased. His eyes narrowed, forehead scrunched together, lips pressed downwards. His stare meets mine, and his lips turn up the tiniest bit, millimeters really, before he abruptly turns away.

I watch the back of him, his sharp hair and even shaper posture, his boots stomping along behind the classes. He turns around, snapping at one of Four's better students before his grey eyes are back on mine. He looks me up and down before his eyes linger along my neck.

He smirks at my gaze.

I won't make it one more week.

 

Four does my last practice simulation on the coldest day of winter so far.

He looks rough; he's got stitches along his hairline, his lip has been split open- complete with a now angry looking red scab that is threatening to crack at any moment, he's pale and tired, and the there's a fresh looking bandage peeking out from beneath his shirt collar.

He moves my hair out of the way, his movements slow and tired.

"Last one." He mutters, more to himself than me. But I nod at him anyway, and the needle slides into my neck. His gaze fixes on my neck no more than unusual, but I know he's noticed the red marks Eric has left behind.

"Are you doing ok, Four?" I ask him, settling back against the cold chair.

He looks up in surprise, and nods. "Thank you for asking. I'm fine, Everly." I feel the tiniest bit of guilt wash over me. I wish I could have gone to see him, even just to lend him some moral support, but I don't know if we're quite at that level of friendship. Not to mention the fact that Eric would have lost his shit at the mere idea.

"Four." I call his name just as I can feel the start of the serum taking effect. My eyes start to feel heavy. His head jerks over to me. "Why are you helping the Factionless?"

I don't hear his answer, because my eyes close and the simulation begins.

When I come to, gasping slightly as the images behind my eyes fade away, Four is in front of me with a worried look on his face. For a minute I panic, thinking that it was my simulation. This one was no worse than any of the previous ones, but I'm always worried it will reveal something utterly impossible. The only difference in this one was the ending; watching everyone that I've cared for, including a familiar scowling face in the background, walk away from me.

If Four was smart enough, he'd pick up on the fact that Eric had finally made an appearance in the landscape, but not in the way he'd expect.

Four stares at me, his brown eyes on mine before he speaks. "What makes you think you can ask me that?" His voice is stern, but I know it's a pretense. I swallow and shake my head, trying to wake myself up. I hadn't meant to ask him anything; in fact I could probably get in huge trouble with Eric for opening up my mouth.

"There's no way the Factionless know enough about shooting to have injured you so badly. Worse than Eric." I tell him. I don't break his stare; it doesn't even come close to rivaling Eric's intimidating glares, but it's still intense.

"You're right." He tells me, shrugging. "But why would you think I had anything to do with it?"

I bite my lip, trying to think quickly. "It just seems personal. Out of everyone, you were attacked the worst."

"And you know this, how?" Four asks.

"It's just a theory." I tell him. I smile slightly. "Do you know any of them? The Factionless?" I try to keep my voice even; I'm walking on thin ice here. He doesn't really owe me an answer.

But he's staring at me, frustration showing across his face. "Yes. I do." He finally admits. "But that doesn't mean I was helping them. They don't need my help."

He takes a step back, and pulls at the collar of his jacket. "Remember how I told you that you needed to be careful?" He throws out as he walks back towards the computers. I look over to him, and nod.

"You still do." His voice is still stern.

"You said be careful with Eric." I answer him, trying to prod him to reveal more. It doesn't work. A displeased look crosses Four's face.

"With him, too." He mutters. His fingers hover over the keyboard.

It appears he's done with this conversation, so I quietly say goodbye, ignoring the way he looks after me, as if there's more that he wants to tell me.

 

 

I have a hard time falling asleep.

It's like my brain has saved up every important though from the day, and decided to rerun them in slow motion through my mind. I lie next to Eric, listening to his breathing, trying to shut my mind off. I can't help but analyze the simulation from today, the way Four seemed to have more to his story then he let on, and finally, my brain settles on Eric beside me.

I listen to him, easily dreaming beside me, unaware that I'm even still awake.

I can make him out in the dark of his room; this isn't my first night time perusal of him, but it feels the most self-indulgent. Awake, he is guarded as ever. But in the sanctity of his own room, he is vulnerable to my study. I feel less guilty now, thinking that he would probably do the same to me. I've fallen asleep before him plenty of times. I don't doubt he's taken careful notes while I enjoyed the warmth of him.

His lips are full and soft, I know this from experience. They part slightly in his slumber, and his eyelids flutter slightly. I lazily wonder what he dreams of. World domination? Four accidentally falling off the fence that surrounds the city? Max leaving him alone to his own devices? I dare to think maybe me, and find myself wanting so badly for that to be true.

His chest rises and falls with each breath, and I want to press myself against him. I know he will be warm and solid against me. I've spent enough nights curled around him to know he wouldn't mind until the morning comes. An idea pops into my head, one that seems almost ridiculous if I weren't dealing with Eric.

This morning I realized Eric never turns the heat on.

I caught sight of the box on the wall, with it switch set to off. While it doesn't shock me that he would do his part to conserve energy, or maybe he just really enjoys a chilly atmosphere; I find it funny that I've never noticed. I spent the first month here freezing, and the second month warmer only because I'd found myself in his bed. Maybe it was part of some grand plan he'd come up with, but I will probably never know. I could stop and try to analyze every single one of his actions, for they are all purposeful, but never really find any satisfying answers.

So tonight, I lie next to him, trying to turn my mind off from all of my thoughts, and I finally sit up and slip my shirt off over my head.

The night air is cold, chilly in the cavernous bedroom. I slide back under the covers, until my back is against his chest, the warmth of his bare skin against my own. I pause, letting myself enjoy the feeling of him. He feels delightful against me, the act of our naked skin together almost illicit. I push myself back further, until I am truly warm against him.

He shifts for a second, his sleep broken by my actions, and a second later a thick arm flings itself over me. He doesn't tense when it comes in contact with my bare skin, he only pushes his head into my hair, curling himself closer to me.

He will awaken soon, I know. I can almost see the smirk now, the curl of his lips in delight at my state of undress. I close my eyes, and the kind pull of sleep finally comes. I settle back against him, and just before I drift off, I can hear him.

"Cold, Amity?" His question is sleepy and lethal, his fingers finding the naked skin over my ribs. I merely shake my head.

"Not anymore."

He huffs from behind me, his fingers, tracing higher up my side. I fall asleep before he can ask any more questions.

 

"That one." Christina yelps.

She's pointing to a dress that's so short I think it might be a mislabeled shirt. It's dark and tight and the exact opposite of what I would want to wear. I shake my head, wondering how one would sit down in such a dress. Tris shakes her head in agreement.

"It's a little…uh, impractical." Tris tells her, as if she can read my thoughts. "There's no way Everly would be able to sit down in that."

Christina sighs in disappointment. "Who said anything about sitting?" She asks, rifling through a rack of dark dresses.

"Well, it is a dinner. You normally sit to eat dinner." Tris informs her, her hands on her hips. I stifle a snort. The store have wandered into is more of a specialty store, and it leaves me wondering just how many events Dauntless actually has. These dresses are dressier than the ones I've seen before, and much pricier.

I aimlessly make my way through the store.

None of these dresses are readily catching my attention. Most of them are overly short or overly tight; several are overly sparkly. I sigh, frustration creeping up my spine. Part of me wants to find something light and airy, something I would have worn back home. But I know that style of dress is probably the last thing Eric wants me to show up in.

Tris appears beside me, her eyes wide and overwhelmed. "This is my least favorite activity." She tells me, her voice a whisper. "Christina loves this, but I…I can never find anything that makes me feel like me."

I could hug her. "Me too." I confess. I glance around, my fingers grazing over the dark fabrics. "I just want something pretty and that doesn't end at my butt."

Tris laughs loudly, and Christina bounces over at the sound, her arms full. "Here!" She shoves a handful of dresses at each of us, and points towards the rooms at the end of the store. "Go try them on. I'll wait here."

I warily eye them, hoping she's found something that will work.

Six dresses later, I think I might have found one I actually like. It's pretty and soft, the fabric silky against my skin. The dress is a deep blue, the top fitted with tiny straps at the shoulders, and the bottom is loose and flowy. It's the perfect combination of the dresses I've looked through.

"Do you think it's too formal?" I ask Tris, pulling one of the straps in place. It looks pretty against my skin. I've never worn anything quite this fancy, and I feel like some sort of royalty.

Tris shakes her head. "No, I think it's perfect. It's a pretty formal dinner. The other faction leaders really like dressing up."

Christina walks over to us, a smile on her face. "Eric is really going to enjoy seeing all that skin." She winks at me, and I try not to blush. I haven't filled either of them in on anything that's happened between Eric and I. If only they knew he'd gotten an eyeful this morning.

I'd woken up him trying to untangle himself, his hands hot against my skin. He'd looked furious, a look I'd only seen on him a few times, but it only spurred me on. I'd stretched lazily, pressing myself towards his quickly retreating figure. I wondered how much longer he'd hold out.

His curse was the last thing I heard before the bathroom door slammed shut.

 

 

His lips find mine, rough and demanding.

I'd barely taken my jacket off, trying to decide if I had time to finish my book before he was home for dinner, when I'd heard the door slam shut. He stormed into the bedroom, his eyes wild and dark when they landed on me.

He strode towards me, easily crossing the room before my I could open my mouth, and pulled me against him.

"Keep your shirt on tonight." He hisses at me before his mouth finds mine. I don't have time for the laugh that I can feel starting. I want to say something about turnabout being fair play, but he bites at my lip before I have the chance. He pushes me back until I hit the bed, slipping one hand underneath my shirt. His hands find their familiar path, until one circles behind my back. He breaks apart from me, apparently having gained some self-control.

"I don't appreciate what you're doing." He voice is rough and tense, as though he's been on edge all day. His other hand is holding onto the edge of my shirt. "I have work to do and you have training to finish."

I nod at him, but I stop when his eyes fall back to my lips. He tilts his head forward, nose brushing past mine until his lips meet my own. I sigh against him, and we stay like this for a heartbeat. His fingers dig into my back, and I realize he's tense against me. I grip onto him tighter, my fingers on the nape of his neck.

"Eric?" I break apart from him, tilting my head to gaze up at him.

He stares down at me, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

"Fuck it." He says. His hands find my waist, and he easily pushes me back onto his bed. He's over me before I can process what's happening, his fingers tugging up my shirt. He throws it aside, not looking at where it falls.

He hesitates for only a second before he pulls his own off, tossing it off the bed. He settles himself over me, his mouth finding mine for a brief second. His eyes meet mine, and mine widen as he reaches for the button on my pants.


	14. Closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I hope the payoff is worth the wait. Just know I read everything you guys send me, and I seriously adore you all. If I could stay home and just write all day long, I would. Until I win the lottery, I will try my best to write and update in between slaving away at work and trying to convince the kids to watch something other than Blaze and the Monster Machines. 
> 
> Anyways, as always, thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> Oh! And to the few who have asked, I probably won't update Eric's POV during this story. I've contemplated writing another version of it from his point of view, chapter by chapter, but I haven't fully decided yet. Who knows!

He's not gentle.

Eric shoves my pants down until they knot at my knees, then furiously yanks them off. It is mere seconds before his hands are back on me.

His hands are rough; they tangle furiously where ever they can touch- my hair, my neck, any exposed skin. It is all fair game to him. He moves with a frantic chaos; as though this mere act of simply pressing his lips and hands to me is enough to have driven him mad beyond all return.

Eric is above me, his weight crushing me into his mattress, his hips aligned with mine- working against them in a frustrating manner. He keeps careful contact with my lips, his kisses are hard and rough, only calming as he reaches to pull me closer to him, his head bending down towards me.

"Everly."

My name is gasp, some rough exhale from his lungs and mouth, groaned against my cheek. It sounds foreign and full of lust, his normal name choice of amity gone for the moment. He finds my neck, and I tilt to the side, allowing him to easily place his mouth there. It is already dotted with his claiming marks; the red splotches barely faded since his last assault.

I take a second to relish in the feeling of him, hot skin and solid muscle above me. He is strong, much stronger than I remember, but he moves with a practiced skill. He's done this before, but there is something short of a furious desire behind his motions. His teeth bite where he pleases, knowing full well that the marks will stay long past my final test. He sucks the skin hungrily, and I find myself groaning against him. The act should not make me feel like this; warm and gooey beneath his ravenous mouth.

But my skin is burning, hot and sparking beneath him.

He breaks free, my skin now raw and cool without him there, and his forehead finds mine. I reach up for him, finally able to touch him freely. My nails find his neck, scraping against his soft hair, and his hips push forward in response. He is still, until I slide my hand down his back, lightly scratching against his skin.

He is not soft in the least bit; his skin is smooth under my hands, pulled taught over the muscles in his back. I trace the curves and dips of them, and he arches up, catlike beneath the touch. His eyes are on mine, grey and dark, but he doesn't move them away. They only close briefly as he presses his lips against mine; if it were anyone else I would have assumed out of a sense of shyness, but Eric is hardly shy.

We stay like this until I lose count of the heart beats between us.

His legs tangle with mine, and I can feel the hardness of him pressing against me. He's still not close enough to me. He is half dressed, and it is too much. I reach between us, sliding my hands down his abdomen until I find the button of his pants. He lets me undo them, pushing himself up slightly as I try to drag them down. It's a comedy of errors; he's too large and hulking for me to get them past his knees, and he kicks them off with a frustrated growl.

He moves himself back atop of me, and this time, the feeling of his bare legs entangling with mine is enough to make me fearless. I reach between us until I can feel him, my fingers wrapping around his erection.

Eric swallows, making some sort of guttural moan as I tighten my grip, and begin to move my hand. I am slightly unpracticed at it and the angle is slightly awkward with him on top of me, but his hips move on their own, pushing him further into my hands.

He groans again, his head resting against mine, his eyes closed. His whole body tenses up, the muscles tensing

For a moment, I fear he will stop me.

I don't know where it comes from, but the fear of rejection is suddenly overwhelming. The feeling is squashed when his fingers travel down my side, and begin to tug on my underwear. My hand drops from him.

He slides it down my hip bone, and I realize he's opened his eyes, and he's watching me, a smirk on his lips.

"Brave girl." He drawls, his voice smooth and slick. Before I can answer, my underwear is pulled down, sliding as far as my knees. He raises himself up slightly, his head cocking to the side before my underwear is completely gone. One of his hands makes its way to my face, this thumb brushing over my cheek lightly.

He then jerks his hand away, as if he's realized the softness behind his action, and slides his hand behind my neck, pulling my head to his. His lips find mine, demanding as ever, until he breaks the kiss abruptly. He pulls back, and my stomach sinks. I know what he's about to do, and I wait for the disconnection.

It doesn't come though.

He merely lifts himself up, resting back on his knees, and with his eyes directly on mine, he slides his boxers off.

My eyes widen, stuck in his gaze.

I want to look down, madly and desperately. This is my chance to see if his words are true, but I can't tear my gaze away from him. His stare is as dark as ever, but there is something indulgent beneath it. As if he's about to enjoy every second of what he's doing.

He kicks the fabric away, and kneels over me, pulling me slightly upright.

I want to be closer to him, so I press closer, my eyes on him as he undoes the clasp on my bra. It's gone within a second, and he pushes my back down, moving until he's on top of me.

The feeling is surreal; Eric is a large, both tall and muscular, and he easily covers the length of myself. I'm willingly trapped beneath him, his skin burning against my own. There is something about touching him like this that feels perilously thrilling, almost dangerous.

He finds my lips again, his hands slowly tracing up my sides, under he finds the underneath of my breast. He traces the skin lazily, his thumb moving to graze over my nipple. My breath catches in my throat, and I Eric's lips quirk against my own.

"Everly." He says my name as he kisses my jaw, and shoves his hips into mine.

I feel myself burning up, hot as he slides between my legs, his erection pressing against my thigh.

For a moment, I feel woefully inexperienced. Eric's hands are still exploring, his fingers roughly investigative on my skin, and all I can do is try to push myself closer to him. I want his skin against mine, even closer, immediately. I reach my fingers into his hair, and pull at his head, impatient as ever.

He huffs against my skin, and one of his fingers trails down my side. It slips over my ribs, down my hip bone, traces to the soft skin on the inside of my thigh. I squirm impatiently, flashing back to the past few days. I'm not disappointed this time; they slide between my legs, grazing exactly where I want them to.

"Ohh."

I certainly won't win any awards with my current vocabulary skills, but Eric doesn't seem to mind. He continues stroking, his fingers lazily circling my clit. The feeling is explosive, more so because of who's causing it. He touches me with practiced fingers, and his teeth nip into my neck as he slides his finger in me, a second following soon after. I almost can't breathe; the feeling of his hands on me and his weight atop me is pleasantly stifling.

"Eric." I gasp out of his name, and he smirks against my skin.

"Yes?" He raises himself up, his eyes now meeting mine. His are dark and stormy, and they look pleased as they gaze down on me. It's hard for me to hold his stare, especially with his fingers curling inside me.

"You like this?" He asks me, his voice low and gritty. He presses harder, his fingers applying just enough pressure, and my eyes want to close.

I can only nod; my hips pressing upwards. At my admission, he jerks hand away, and I squeak at the loss of contact. He smirks.

"Should I make this easy for you?" He grins widely, and shifts us so I am sitting up. "Or not?" I take the opportunity when I see it. I reach for him, pulling him off his balance and climb atop him until he stumbles back a bit. He raises an eyebrow in amusement; his back almost against the headboard.

I can feel him against my legs, and his hip push forward, his fingers knotting in my hair.

"Nothing with you is easy." I tell him, raising myself up the tiniest bit. I can feel him trying to stay still, but losing as he seems to thrust unconsciously between my legs. He leers at me, throwing his head back as I press my mouth to his throat. His skin is salty, and I suddenly understand why he likes his mouth on me.

"Fuck." His words are a snarl, and his hands find my hips. I break my contact, sliding my hand behind his head. Large hands grip my hips, and he none too gently jerks me forward, until I hover above him. I can feel the tip of him pressed against me, and the urge to slide down on top of him is over whelming.

I give in to it.

He swallows heavily, perhaps not expecting my action. His chest rises as he strains to stay still. He stares at me as I press myself down onto him, his gaze dark and intense. The feeling is everything I could have dreamt of; a hot burn of pleasure as he pushes himself inside me, his mouth parting open at the act.

Neither of us speaks; he is too hot, too big and too immense as his hips work against mine. My experience with Landon seems useless, nothing more than an immature day dream compared to how Eric feels. The feeling is downright delicious; he is hard and I can feel him everywhere, something different about it than my experience before. His hands grip me tighter, holding me closer to him, his breathing unsteady. His gaze is relentless, grey eyes flashing up at me. He lets go for the briefest of seconds to shove my bangs out of my face.

The action throws me off. I meet his gaze with wide eyes, and he merely pulls me closer.

I swear I hear my name, groaned from deep within, and I move against him, seeking more. He hisses as my hips work faster, unrelenting as something low and warm curls in my stomach. I can feel it starting in my thighs; a pleasant buzzing that is working its way through me. Eric's fingers dig into my skin, his mouth finding mine.

His hands are everywhere; they scour my back and my arms, they glide over my breasts, making me arch against him. It is simultaneously too much and not enough. He grunts beneath me, and I realize he's tensing, his muscles tightening.

"Eric." I manage to gasp out his name, his gaze jerks to mine. The smugness is mostly gone from his face, leaving behind only an unmatched longing. Landon never looked at me like this; as though he could burn up easily below me. Eric's jaw tenses, his hands like iron in my hair.

"Don't stop." His voice is a rough snarl, and I listen to him, obedient as though we are back in the training room. I claw him to me, my heart pounding wildly as it threatens to break free from my ribs. I can feel every inch of him; his slick and sweaty skin against mine, the scratch of his stubble against my neck and cheeks, down to the rough grip he's got on me.

I'm close to losing it, and judging by the way he's groaning my name, repeatedly and longingly, so is he. He pulls harder at my hair, and I take great delight in the way his eyes shut for a moment, and he bites at his own lip. His head tilts back, exposing the pale column on his neck.

It would almost seem submissive, had he not had such an intense grip on me.

It only lasts a second; his eyes flash open and he pulls my mouth to his, biting at me with a furiousness. I can feel him tensing beneath me, his thighs tightening and his grip almost painful.

"I'm..I…" His words are mumbled against my lips, and he suddenly presses his own gently, almost needy against mine. "Everly."

My name is an urgent plea but it doesn't matter. He hits something inside me, something deep inside that I didn't know existed, and I can feel his fingers slip between us, touching where he is connected to me. His touch is enough to push me over the edge, and I feel myself burst into a thousand little pieces. I arch against him; I can still hear him saying my name, and I can still feel his hips thrusting into mine. It could be hours later, I'll never know. Everything is a white blur until I feel him tense completely, losing himself inside of me. He slows down, never letting go, simply groaning my name against my neck.

I am gone.

I vaguely can feel him pressing his lips against my throat, my neck, and finally my cheek. I try to steady my breathing and slow down my frantically beating heart. I'm dimly aware of Eric pulling me backwards until my head is against his chest and pushing us until he's on his side. I'm still against him, and when he slides out from inside me, I find myself shivering into his chest.

My eyes close as he sinks one hand into my hair, and one hand behind my back.

The last thing I hear is my name, said only as a sigh.

 

 

I awake early, before the sun has even begun its ascent.

I find myself half over Eric's sleeping form, my body atop of his, my face in his chest. He is dead asleep below me, not even stirring when I lift myself off of him. I rub at my eyes, and try to focus on him in the darkness. There is a pleasant ache between my legs, and a desire to climb back on top of him and wake him up.

I bend forward, touching his lips with my own.

It takes a minute before I feel his eyes flutter open, his reaction slow and sleepy.

"What are you…" He mumbles at me, but that's all he gets out before I straddle him.

He is slow this time; deliciously and wonderfully slow. There are no rough touches, no yanking of hair, and no rushed biting. Perhaps it is his tired state, or perhaps he really can be gentle, but I lose myself in him as he nuzzles his nose against mine.

He sighs my name into my skin, over and over.

 

 

I awake alone.

It's not surprising, but that doesn't mean it isn't disappointing.

I sit up in the bed, sleepily rubbing my eyes and pulling the covers over me. The apartment is cold as ever, but Eric's bed is warm, and I am reluctant to get up. Though I have nothing planned for today, getting up means stepping back into the reality of Dauntless. It means looking at Eric in the light of day, and I have no idea how he will react after our night together.

The clench in his jaw should have been my first indication.

My stomach sinks at the sight of him. He steps back into the bedroom, fully dressed as though he's going into battle. He is nothing but sharp edges and stiff fabric, cold eyes and a tense mouth. His gaze falls on me, and I freeze. I am the opposite of this man before me; naked and exposed, soft hair and wide eyes. The panic is eating at me, waiting for him to snap that I need to get out of here. Out of his bed.

It increases as he steps closer, his gaze fixed on me.

"I have meetings all day today." He informs me, his voice even and neutral. "I won't see you for lunch."

The separation he's putting between us hurts, more than I am ready for. My head drops, my stare falling to the sheets where hours ago he whispered my name into my neck. I suddenly wonder if this is routine for him; has anyone ever stayed in his bed, other than me?

I can hear him moving around, the heavy walk of his boots loud in the otherwise silent room.

I don't look up until his fingers find my jaw, and he tilts my head up at him. His gaze has softened now, and his lips are pressed together. There's an air of frustration seeping from him, and I stare up at him. He uses one hand to brush the hair out of my eyes, and he bends down, cupping my face in his hands.

"I'll see you for dinner."

His words hold a promise, and he very slowly brushes his lips against mine. His fingers curl around my jaw, holding me captive to him. It's over all too soon, and he breaks apart, staring intently one final time before he storms out of the room.

 

 

Christina's eyes are so wide that she almost resembles some sort of owl.

"You. Did. Not." Her words are punctuated by long pauses, and behind her, Tris watches with an amused expression as she finishes making us macaroni and cheese. I watch her scoop it into three bowls, serving Christina and I before herself.

"We did." I feel slightly shy before them, even though I have no reason to be. I knew I could trust them, and there was nothing more I needed right now than girlfriends to talk to.

Eric had left without another word, and I'd be unable to fall back asleep. After I lay for what seemed like hours, analyzing every minute of the last night, I finally climbed out of bed and into the shower. By the time I was dressed and ready for the day, it was lunch time, and I was on my own until I ran into Christina and Tris.

Tris had happily suggested we head to her apartment. I was utterly relieved that we'd be eating away from everyone else. It'd be much easier to talk without worrying who would over hear.

"And! Did you find the other piercing?" Christina demands, waving her fork in the air. "You better not be holding out on us." Tris wrinkles her nose and shakes her head.

"I don't know if I really need to know if he's pierced down there." Her face scrunches up for a second, but then she laughs. "Ok, I mean, maybe I am a little curious now."

I was worried that the two of them might have been the tiniest bit judgmental; after all, I'd gone ahead and slept with one of the leaders before I was even a full member of Dauntless. If I spelled it out like that, it didn't sound so lovely. But when I thought back to my night with Eric, the way he'd felt beneath me, and the way he'd gazed up at me, I wouldn't change any of it.

"I didn't actually see." I confess, stabbing at a noodle. "It felt different, that's for sure."

Christina rolls her eyes. "One job. You had one job, Everly."

I find myself laughing. "To find out where else Eric is pierced?"

She looks at me, her gaze full of mock indignation. "Yes! It's all I've been thinking about." Tris throws her a disgusted look. Christina ignores her and reaches for her drink, her eyes serious now. "You'll just have to do it again so you can get a better look."

I giggle. "I'll let you know."

"So was it good?" Christina is raising an eyebrow at me in an exaggerated manner.

I'm pretty sure my cheeks darken, because they both start giggling. I'm immediately at ease; I feel like I've known these girls my whole life. "It was really good. Both times." I answer honestly.

"Both times, huh." Christina winks at me. "Was he rough? Did he slam your head into the wall? I always pictured sex with Eric to be very very rough."

"Christina!" Tris looks horrified. "He wouldn't slam her head into the wall." She stops, looking at me. "He didn't, did he?"

I shake my head. "There was no head slamming. He was rougher the first time, but I can't explain it. Almost like he'd had enough of waiting?" I feel like I'm failing at this girl talk, but I can't really describe how things were with Eric. They just were the way they were.

Tris snorts beside her. "And how was he this morning?"

I frown at my lunch. "Weird?" I tell them, my voice emphasizing my uncertainty. "I mean, he's not exactly an open book, but he was definitely quiet. He almost seemed…like he wanted to get out of there as fast as possible." I sigh, meeting their stares. "Did I mess this up? Should I have waited?"

The two of them shake their head at the same time, as if they suddenly share a brain.

"No." Christina says firmly. "Not even close. I'm sure he's just freaked out."

I find her words funny, and I tilt my head at her. "Freaked out?"

Beside her, Tris nods. "I think he liked it."

"What do you mean he liked it?" I can't imagine Eric could have found our evening together to have been something so terrible that he didn't like it. He certainly seemed to enjoy himself.

Christina looks at Tris, confusion on her face. "Yeah, why wouldn't he like it?"

Tris looks at me, a knowing expression crossing her face. "I think he didn't think he would enjoy it as much as he did." She stops and rolls her eyes for a moment. "He thinks he's so tough, so untouchable. You just threw his whole world for a loop. Why else would he be weird?"

I let her words sink in, and finish my macaroni and cheese.

I can't help but feel the tiniest bit gleeful at her words.

 

 

Eric doesn't make it back for dinner.

I make myself toast, feeling glummer than ever, and then start to feel stupid for even feeling anything. He is one of the leaders here. He's probably busy doing something important, something that doesn't involve eating dinner with me. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to make the burning behind them stop. He said he'd be back, but the apartment is empty and quiet as ever.

I finish my toast, and I linger in the kitchen, unsure of what to do.

I could leave, sure. I could head down to Tris' apartment, and knock on her door and…and what? Talk with her? Explain that I feel like an idiot because Eric said he'd be back and he isn't? That I've suddenly turned into some terrifying pile of goo and I just want him to be here, even if it means his jaw will clench and his stare will be cold.

I could try to find Christina, but that's a little more risky. I don't know where she lives, and running through the compound by myself will do nothing more than draw attention to myself.

I sigh and wash my plate off. I contemplate making him some toast, but I decide against it. I am just starting to slump my way towards the bedroom when the apartment door flies open, and Eric storms through the door. Behind him, Max trails after him, and he comes to a halt when they both see me standing there.

"Everly!" Max greets me cheerfully, and Eric meets my gaze. He looks annoyed, but no more so than usual. "We were just talking about you."

A feeling of dread washes over me, and for a hot minute I imagine Eric describing just what exactly we were doing last night. I must be making some sort of horrified face, because Eric smirks at me.

"Oh, hopefully it was good." My voice sounds abnormally high, and behind me I can see Eric raise an eyebrow.

"Very good." Max announces. "Eric here is really proud of you." He claps Eric on the shoulder, and beams. "You two have made quite the team." I can only nod, and I shift awkwardly, wanting to very badly make a dash for the bedroom. Eric looks mildly uncomfortable next to the older leader.

"Thank you." I tell him and I start edging away from them as he starts to talk with Eric again; I make out a few mumbles about foot patrols. I'm almost to the end of the living room when I hear Max saying goodbye to Eric. Seconds later, Eric's behind me, his hand curling around my arm to yank me back to him. He looks very amused.

"Don't worry. We were talking about your leadership training. Not what happened last night." His lips curl upwards, pleased at my discomfort. I try to shrug him off, but his grip tightens.

"I didn't think that's what you and Max were talking about." I tell him. I give up trying to escape, and I turn to fully face him. "Why would you even think that?"

He raises an eyebrow at me. "I could see if on your face."

"You could not." I tell him. I meet his gaze, trying to ignore the way his cheekbones seem more prominent when he smiles in delight.

"I've seen a lot of different faces from you lately." His words are heavy, laced with intent. "My favorite might be the one when you made when you were on top of me. I think I'd like to see it again."

I shrug at him. "I don't know, you said you'd be back for dinner…" I trail off, trying to ignore the glow of fury that sparks in his eyes. It lasts a mere second before he pulls me until I collide with his chest, his lips capturing mine.

All of my worries are now forgotten; his fingers tug on my hair and he all but drags me towards his bedroom. "I'll have something else for dinner." He hisses into my ear. His hands slip under my shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin. He finds my earlobe, his nose nuzzling against it.

"Take off your pants." He tells me, impatient as ever.

And to think I was going to make him some toast.


	15. Finals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your patience! I'm heading out on vacation this upcoming week, and I picked up a few extra days at work, meaning this got pushed back further than I meant it to. I hope it's worth the wait :)
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, adding this to your story alerts, and commenting. 
> 
> To the person who asked if there was a celebrity that I could compare Everly to, I don't really have any one in mind. If you do, send one my way. The only celebrities I get to focus on these days are Elsa and Ana and she doesn't look like either of them :D
> 
> And to whoever said Everly is out of her element sexually with Eric, you nailed it. She's out of her comfort zone in that matter, and he's out of his comfort zone emotionally. Quite the pair, huh.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and happy three day weekend!!!

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

It's late; so late that the numbers on the clock on his night stand seem to blur together, but it doesn't matter. The only thing I can see is his chest, taut muscle beneath pale skin and coarse hairs. I'm well acquainted with his chest, but my fingers trace over it, exploring with a slow sleepiness.

I nod against him, and my bangs fall back into my eyes.

His fingers are on my spine, tracing up and down, counting each vertebra. His hot words from earlier were a woeful lie; he'd simply led me to the bedroom and slid beneath the covers with me I did take my pants off, but he didn't do anything more than press his lips against mine and suggest we go to bed.. His lips had found mine easily, rough and wanting, but he stopped just before I slid my hands under his shirt.

"No." His words were tight, but there wasn't anything laced through them. "You need to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow."

In the end I'd won a tiny bit; he'd stripped his clothes off and I'd curled myself into him, settling against his warmth without a second thought. Now, in the deepening hours of the night, all I can think of is my final landscape.

"I can't help it." I tell him, almost embarrassed to admit the words. I wonder if he was nervous for his, but I doubt it.

"Don't be. You'll do fine." He tells me. Eric's fingers don't stop their pattern.

"What if something terrible happens during it?" I ask. My eyes are starting to feel heavy. I've been laying on him for almost an hour now, and his stroking of my spine has made me drowsy. He adjusts us slightly, always pulling me closer despite the tensing of his muscles. His fingers continue their slow grazing, and finally stop as they press into my lower spine.

"It'll be nothing worse than what you've already experienced."

My mind swirls at his words; my experiences with the simulations haven't been anything horrifying, but I'm assuming they evolve along with the person. My neck pricks at the thought of Eric appearing this time, exposing a raw part of me that I'm not even ready to share with him. I can imagine the hasty retreat on his part; too soon and too much for him to deal with. He agreed to train me, nothing more. The simulations have a way of pulling everything out of you; cracking you open and exposing the soft insides for the leaders to see.

I press my head further into his chest and try to stop my onslaught of negative thoughts. Instead I focus on the feel of him, solid against my cheek. I could stay here indefinitely. Whether or not he will let me is the real question.

My fingers still, and my eyes begin to feel heavy.

It's the times like right now, as Eric's breathing slows and his chest begins to rise and fall rhythmically into unconsciousness, that I know he will.

 

 

I dress quickly.

My uniform is as sharp as Eric's; the black jacket is stiff and cold against my skin, and I feel almost powerful while wearing it. Perhaps this is part of Eric's intimidation weapons, why he keeps himself armored for battle at all times. I straighten the collar, leaving the top button undone. I've noticed Eric's is never fully buttoned, and I decide I will mimic his. The small act feels comforting, as though I can't fail because I've adopted a small part of him.

He appears behind me, his eyes giving me a once over before he comes to a halt behind me.

"Ready?" He doesn't sound remotely nervous, and I wonder if he and Four are ever anxious for their initiates. Do they ever have high hopes for any of us? Do they ever lie awake at night and imagine how we will do during the landscape or what we will do once we leave their class?

Four, maybe.

Eric, no.

My future has been predetermined by Eric; I will pass my landscape and take whatever path he's chosen, and it just happens to be one with him. The thought brings me a small sense of comfort. I shouldn't be terribly nervous; because in Eric's mind, I cannot fail.

I nod my head at Eric, trying not to bite my lip as my nerves seem to burn with agitation. But it's useless. He's hyper observant. There's no way he hasn't noticed my nerves.

His fingers find mine, and he steps closer until his chest touches my back, his chin jutting out. I stare at our reflections in the mirror.

We look like quite the pair.

He stands behind me, tall and straight, with his eyes narrowed. His jaw is set but not tense, and his thumb grazes over the back of my hand. My head touches somewhere against his chest, my dark hair pulled up only halfway. I've left most of it down to attempt to cover the marks on my neck, but it's a useless battle. He's left enough bite marks behind that even had I button up my jacket completely you'd still be able to see them.

He takes a careful inventory of my appearance. His lips smirk when his gaze falls to my neck, and he moves my hair aside slightly.

"Four's still gonna notice."

His voice has a laziness to it, one that tells me he's pleased with this scenario. As if he could not have planned this any better. I find myself rolling my eyes, but I stop when his grip tightens. I press myself back against him, letting my weight fall against his chest.

"I'm sure he will. He's almost as observant as you." I tell him, watching him in the mirror. It's an odd thing, to stand here with him like this; to stare at his face knowing what it feels like to have him come undone beneath me.

Eric smiles, his lips curling up halfway, and he bends forward until his lips graze my ear, his words a quiet threat.

"Too bad for him he'll spend the rest of his days observing you from afar."

 

 

The room is large and full of people that I don't recognize. I can spot Max and Four idly chatting away next to a desk full of computers, the latter looking slightly distracted. Behind them, groups of neatly dressed individuals stand, their clothing so pristinely sharp it makes Eric look sloppy. I stand beside Eric, coming to a half when he stops to greet a blonde haired woman.

She's so severe she makes my eyes hurt.

Her hair is perfectly blonde and blunt, the bob grazing below her jaw. Her eyes are unfriendly, warming slightly at the sight of Eric but not by much. Her dark blue coat is stiff looking, the fabric almost shimmering under the dim lighting. I recognize her from the Choosing Ceremony.

Jeanine.

At the ceremony, her face had a forced politeness to it. I saw her briefly, her eyes watching me as I made my decision. It lasted mere seconds. I was of little interest to her. Until now.

Her gaze falls to me, cold and clinical, and I take an unconscious step closer to Eric. She notices; her eyes narrowing at my action, but I don't back down from her now curious look. Eric's fingers brush against my lower back before he shoves me towards her.

"This is Everly."

For a moment, sheer panic races through me. I feel as though I've been fed to the wolves. Jeanine's stare is fully on me now, filled with a hungry curiosity. I dimly hear her say hello, and it is mere seconds before Eric's fingers slip against mine, nudging me to say something.

"It's nice to meet you." I tell her, trying to sound sincere. She smiles at me, and it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"I've heard great things about you." She tells me. Her gaze is so intense and I briefly wonder who would win in a staring contest, her or Eric.

"Thanks." I'm not sure how to answer her. I want to step back closer to Eric, until I'm safely behind him. But I stand my ground, trying to keep my cool in front of her.

"Eric has done a fantastic job with your training. I'm rather impressed." She nods at me, done with this conversation, and I can tell she's about to make a polite exit.

"Thank you." Eric tells her, and this time he pulls me back and I follow him towards Four's class. They are milling around in a large hallway, each one anxiously awaiting to get started. I scan the group until I find Karl, and he gives me a thumbs up. Eric throws him a dirty look, but it's mild in comparison to his normal glares.

He walks with me until we are a bit aways from Four's class. He stands in front of me, distinctly separating me from them, and his eyes search mine.

"You're first, you know."

"Oh good." I'm sure he can feel the panic radiating from me. He takes one of his hands and very gently moves my hair behind my ear. He adjusts the collar of my jacket the same way I've seen him adjust his own. His grooming lasts only a few seconds, but his fingers linger near my neck, then he throws a glance to the side and drops his hands.

Max is making his way towards us, his stare curious.

"We're ready for her." His eyes are kind, and I think back to the first time I met him. His messy office, his amusement at assigning Eric to help me, the way he handed me a faulty key- passively forcing me to stay with Eric. I smile at him, and throw a look at Eric. He nods, his grey eyes large and unemotional.

It's not until I sit down in the chair, letting Four slide the needle into my neck with a grimace, do I notice the tiniest bit of worry flicker into Eric's expression.

 

 

I sit up, stark panic leaving me slowly.

Four is in front of me, a smile on his face. He helps me sit slightly more upright, nodding in approval.

"You did great. Congratulations, Everly." He extends his hand, and I take it, stepping upright, and leaving the chair.

The room is fairly quiet despite the vast number of people inside of it. Four's class is murmuring off to the side, and I turn to Four. "Can everyone see the Landscape?"

He shakes his head, his brown eyes kind at my concern. "No. The can watch you react, but they don't see anything else. It only shows up on the monitors over by the computers." My eyes fly to them, noting Max and Jeanine talking intently. He motions to something and she nods, satisfied by whatever he's shown her. "Don't worry. Eric didn't do anything terrible in yours. Not in the way you would have expected him to."

I look up at him curiously. He's walking me towards the hallway, and I glance around trying to find Eric. "Why would I be worried about Eric showing up in mine?" I try to keep my voice quiet. Four's class is watching me, their eyes wide and nervous. I feel some small satisfaction that I have gone first, but Four's words are making me nervous.

He shrugs, coming to stop at the beginning of the hallway. "I know you and Eric are close. Closer than a trainer and initiate should be."

"How?" I blurt out, and mentally kick myself. I've just solidified his theory. And I don't know if Eric would ever use the word close to describe us, other than the position in which we sleep.

Four rolls his eyes. "I'm not stupid. I watched you two earlier. I didn't help any of my students do their hair today."

I stare up at him, not really having a good answer for that. "How did he show up in it?"

Four simply smiles and pats my shoulder. With a gentle push, he forces me towards the hallway. "I'm sure he'd like to be the one to tell you."

I turn my head to find Eric standing there, his lips pressed together tightly.

 

 

"You did what?" I stare up at him from his couch.

The walk back to his apartment had been long and quiet, and I'd waited for him to tell me what had happened. It bothered me that I couldn't remember the landscape, but it was no different than the simulations. While I could recall vague bits and pieces, I couldn't remember Eric's appearance in it, no matter how hard I tried.

"I shot you. In the head." He stares at me, his eyes burning into mine.

I shake my head, more confused than ever. "But I don't think you'd shoot me."

Eric grits his teeth, scowling deeply. "No shit. It's not a literal translation of your fears."

I think for a minute, taking in his tense posture and his wide stance. His shoulders are so high they look uncomfortable. Realization hits me, and I break his gaze. My eyes fall somewhere onto the floor.

"But I worked through it, right?"

Eric nods wordlessly.

"So I'm afraid you'll hurt me?" I ask him, my voice very quiet. I wasn't aware of this fear. I've never thought he would actually hurt me. He's never physically threatened me in any way, and despite the forceful exterior he gives off, I feel like he would never touch me in any manner that I didn't want.

I raise my eyes to his, and I'm startled to find they look slightly uneasy, almost distant. He swallows, and jerks his head away from me.

"Apparently."

"But you've never even come close to physically hurting…" The words die on my lips, and I almost can't look at him. Understanding slams into me; I'm not afraid he'll physically hurt me, I'm afraid he'll hurt me in other ways. The thought is almost painful; like sharp jabs to my stomach. "I've never really thought that…" I trail off, hoping to soothe the situation.

It takes him a minute to reply. He's staring at the wall as though he'll be quizzed on it later. "I have to go finish up your paperwork." He doesn't look at me, and my heart clenches agonizingly.

"Eric." I stand up from the couch, and make my way towards him. He finally looks down to me, his eyes just as cold as the first time I ever saw him. His jaw is clenched shut so tightly it's as though someone's wired it closed. He stiffens when my fingers grab hold of the front of his jacket.

"I don't think you'd hurt me." I tell him. I stare up at him, and his eyes are fixed above me, narrowing at the wall. "It was just the landscape…"

"You should have seen Four's smile when you got to that fear. His face lit up as though it were the best thing he'd ever seen." Eric raises an eyebrow in mock delight, his eyes finally meeting mine. "He obviously took great pleasure in the fact that you think…"

"I don't think that!" I snap at him. "I never thought you would hurt me. It probably wasn't even you that it was about. You said it wasn't a literal fear."

He stares at me, and I swear his jaw tightens even further.

"Do you still want me to go to the dinner with you?" I decide to change the subject. It's clear he's bothered by this, more so than he wants to let on. I pull him closer, my hands are curled into his jacket, the fabric rough against my fingers. He stares for a heartbeat too long before he swallows.

"Yes." His words are tight and annoyed. He cocks his head to the side, averting his stare.

"Ok." I tell him, and I release the front of his jacket. My hands have barely fallen away from his when he reaches around, one arm slipping behind my back to pull me again him. He holds me close to him, heartbeats separated only by our uniforms.

"I would never hurt you."

He mutters it so quietly, almost painfully so, that I can't even be sure he really said it. I bend forward, pressing my head on his chest, and I nod against him.

"I know." I tell him. His arms tense up, the muscles contracting tightly around me. I can almost feel the internal struggle raging through him.

"We have to leave here at five. I'll meet you before then." With those final terse words he lets go. Eric slips away from me, his mouth pressed downward as he marches towards the front door.

I stand in the middle of his apartment, trying to slow my racing heart. It's become obvious to me that he's not pleased with everything the fear landscape has brought up.

"Shit." I swear to no one.

This is definitely not the way I saw my night going.

 

 

The placard on the table reads Mr. And Mrs. Eric Coulter, and it is set across from Tris and Jeremy.

Eric grip on my waist is tight; his fingers dig into my hip with a vengeance. His posture is somewhat relaxed, but his stance is wide – his weight distributed evenly, and his chest held out in front of him, practically daring someone to come up and ask him about his seating arrangement.

I stand pressed beside him, trying to pretend I don't notice the other leader's curious stares. There are lots of eyes on us, more specially me, but they watch the two of us carefully. Eric makes sure I stay against him, his mood only slightly better than when he had stormed out this afternoon. I catch Tris's eye from across the room and throw her a small smile.

She and Chrsistina had been godsends.

After Eric stormed out of his apartment, I immediately left to find Tris. She had my dress at her apartment, but more importantly, she could help me figure out what Eric's problem was. I was mostly at a loss; I'd tried to remember what she had said before, that perhaps Eric rather had enjoyed our nights together, and just wasn't sure how to deal with that. Dealing with it like a normal person would have been nice, but Eric was far from normal.

Or maybe he was just really was insulted that he showed up in the landscape, gun pointed at my head. Maybe he'd rather it have been something else.

Tris had listened carefully, her eyes wide and patient, before she shook her head and frowned.

"Tris, that face is not helping." I told her, sighing. She looked up, smiling in embarrassment.

"No! Sorry. It's nothing bad. It's just…" She stopped, and chewed her lip. "I think you are the only person in Dauntless that Eric doesn't want to be afraid of him. He doesn't want you thinking he'd hurt you, but he doesn't want you to know that. I don't think he quite knows what to do with his own feelings." She stared at the table for a minute before she shrugs. "At least he's talked about it. Four showed up in mine, you know. He didn't want to touch me for a long time after that."

My head jerked up to her. "Was he your trainer when he showed up in yours?"

It was a long time before Tris answered, her cheeks darkening. "Yes."

 

 

We sit at the round tables.

They are decorated in overly crisp white table clothes, and dotted with intricate centerpieces. The lush green branches are twined around the glass vase, and a pretty gold candles glow within them. The room is pretty; we are up on a high floor of one of the Erudite buildings, and large floor to ceiling windows line the walls. The curtains have been drawn wide open to reveal the city, the sun halfway down, casting an icy glow over the frozen city.

Each table holds maybe ten of us, and I'm surprised to find there are more people here than I was expecting. Each faction leader has brought someone with them, along with leader assistants and their own dates. Tris and Jeremy are at our table, along with Max and his date- a pretty woman that I've never seen before, and a couple from Candor that I don't know.

Eric's grip hasn't lessened. Our chairs are shoved close together, and his arm is draped behind me; his fingers curling into my shoulder, underneath my hair. The Candor man keeps throwing a look in our direction, but Eric ignores him, his fingers impatient on my skin.

We were almost late to the dinner.

He'd come back from wherever he went with handfuls of paperwork, and shoved them in my face.

"You need to sign these." He'd told me, not bothering to look at me as he strode past me to the bedroom. I'd heard the bathroom door slam and the shower start. I flipped through the pages, trying to make sense of them. Some were summaries of my training. They provided an interesting look at how I had been scored. I scowled at the seven out of ten he'd given me on long distance shooting, remembering the way he'd shoved his hips into me and made me miss the targets entirely.

The rest were papers that seemed more like routine paperwork.

My wellness check, a list of training exercises and the dates I'd completed them, a list of the simulations- sloppily dated and summarized by Four, the paperwork Eric had filled out for me, including a second dismal for housing assignments, and finally- paperwork for my upcoming training with Eric. It listed the start dates- my heart leaping at the realization that I had two who weeks off in between trainings-, a list of faction visits and dates with a stark line crossed through Amity, and a paper that made no sense to me. It had some sort of equations on it; it listed both my name and Eric's, his apartment number, and had his neat signature at the bottom along with a space for a witness.

I had just finished signing the last page when he emerged from the shower.

I could smell the hint of the rich cologne he wore, and I turned to find him behind me, still buttoning up a dark black dress shirt. My lips parted slightly at the sight of him. His hair was still slightly damp, but combed back into place. His skin looked soft, freshly shaved and my fingers ached to touch it. His eyes were bright and alert, all traces of uneasiness from before gone. Eric stopped, adopting his normal wide stance, and his eyes looked me up and down.

I'd almost forgotten I was already dressed for the dinner.

Christina had helped make my hair wavy, then braided part of it back and twisted it into a pretty pony tail. She'd angled it to the side, cheekily telling me she chose to cover the side with the reddest marks. I swatted at her, but it turned out well. A little concealer took care of the rest of the marks.

Eric certainly seemed to like it.

His eyes had darkened, his lips parting almost lustfully as he slid one finger under the flimsy strip of my dress.

"Did you sign everything?" He asked me, his voice low.

I nodded at him, trying to stay still. My stomached flipped over and over, as though this was the first time he'd ever touched my skin. He slid the strap down and closed the gap between us.

"Good." He'd hissed, and I knew the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. His other hand had found my waist, digging into the silky fabric. It was mere seconds before the knocking started, and I found myself contemplating murder at whoever it was.

"That must be Max." He'd murmured against my lips, and he'd stepped back, his fingers finishing buttoning up his dark shirt. He gave me one last look before he stormed towards the door.

Now, his fingers press impatiently against my skin, tracing a familiar pattern. He's talking idly with Max, and I try to look interested so I don't have to talk to the man from Candor. He's been staring with great interest at the name plate on the table for the past hour.

"You think that would be enough? You could always take on an extra ten and add them to the patrols. It would easily give you enough coverage." Max's date looks utterly bored, and I wonder if Max ever talks about anything other work. I try not to focus on their patrol talk. I don't know enough about patrols other than the last one Eric went on; he wound up getting shot multiple times.

"Are you going on another patrol soon?" I interrupt them, tugging on Eric's arm. He tilts his head towards me, and I can feel one of his fingers slide back under the strap on my dress.

"Sometime in the next week." He says idly. "I have a few questions for some of the factionless and I'm sure they have the answers I need." I can feel the Candor man's eyes on my skin, following Eric's fingers.

"I don't think you should go." I tell him seriously. "Can't you send someone else?" All I can think of is Eric sitting atop the examining table, blood sliding down through his hair.

Beside him, Max smiles widely. Eric merely rolls his eyes and smirks, but his fingers still against my skin. "Don't worry. This time we won't bring anyone who's willing to commit factional treason."

The tone in his voice tells me he's figured a few things out, and Four is royally fucked.

 

 

The girl is staring at me with complete and utter hatred.

I'm somewhat used to it. Being from Amity meant that people assumed we were of lesser intelligence; so many times they'd joke that we were high off our own peace serum, or simple minded farmers who wouldn't be able to survive anywhere else. The idea of us in other factions amused them; someone from Amity could never work one of Erudite's glossy buildings, or dare stand up to the pressure of being a member of Candor. We could certainly never survive in Dauntless. That particular bias had extended through my Dauntless training. Most of Four's class seemed almost dismayed that I'd managed to stay alive.

But this girl in front of me, with her long blonde hair and her perfectly done up eye makeup, is staring me down as though I've crawled out of the sewer and onto her shoe. Her stare is icy, filling with an unknown spite that I wouldn't have expected from someone so pretty. Her royal blue dress is finely tailored, and she towers over me even without the added height of her sky high shoes.

I suddenly feel woefully plain and under dressed.

I smile at her, hoping she will turn her attention back to the line ahead of us, and her eyes tighten in return. The line for the ladies room seems unbearably long now. I shift my weight, pretending to study the stark wallpaper. I'm nearly done memorizing the almost invisible pattern of the lines when she finally speaks.

"Are you really Eric's date?"

Even her voice is pretty. I turn my head to her, giving her my full attention.

"I am." I try to sound casual; as though this was something Eric and I would normally do, and who was she to question me. Maybe Eric and I eat dinner in fancy buildings every night. Maybe we always dress up while we eat. Her pursed lips tell me she doesn't buy my casual tone.

"Interesting." She doesn't bother hiding her words the way someone else would have said them under her breath. She stares harder, as though she's committing me to memory. "He's never brought anyone with him before. Ever."

I shrug, and watch as a lady squeezes her way past us; her dark grey dress much less formal than anyone else's here. I'm surprised anyone from Abnegation is here. I would think they'd have found the whole dinner extravagant and unnecessary. We take an awkward step forward, the room quiet now.

She catches my eyes, and she throws me one very fake, condescending smile. "It's cute that you look so happy next to him." She pauses, probably for dramatic effect. "Too bad he'll be done with you soon."

"Oh really?" I throw out, starting to feel annoyed. I don't know who she is, or how she knows Eric, but she's starting to grate on my nerves.

She cocks her head to the side, her eyes narrowing further in glee at my response to her taunting. "I know who you are. And I know what you're thinking. How you'll be the one to change him." She pulls herself to her full height, and she looks down her nose at me, her lips curling cruelly. "Don't be too devastated, little girl, when he doesn't fall in love with you."

I feel like the air has been sucked out of me. I never intended for Eric to feel anything for me, but somehow hearing these words uttered into the air is like a punch to the stomach. A small part of me is well aware that he keeps himself closed off, but I don't need her pointing this out.

"And who exactly are you?" I keep my voice neutral, almost disinterested.

Her smile falters the tiniest bit. "Ashley." She tosses her blonde hair behind her. "Jeanine's assistant."

I try to look unimpressed, but I'm also very curious as to how she knows Eric. I don't want her to know that, so I just throw her a fake smile and motion towards the doors. "I think you can go ahead."

She throws me one final nasty look before gracefully walking away, her shoes clicking noisily on the floor.

 

 

Eric sits on his bed, his head cocked to the side.

"What did she say to you?" He asks, his palms flat on either side of him. I'm standing at his dresser, trying to remove the millionth bobby pin from my hair. I succeed for the most part. I detangle the braid slowly while he watches.

"Who?" I ask him. I work through a tangled knot, trying not to rip it out. "I talked to a lot of people." It was true. After my encounter in the bathroom, the rest of the night flew by. Tris had convinced the man from candor to switch seats with her and Jeremy, and we spent the rest of the night chatting easily. Jeremy was nice enough; he was more nervous than I'd imagined him to be, but he was obviously thrilled to have Tris there with him. The seat beside Eric seemed to be a rotating chair. People came and went, each one stopping by curiously. Johanna had stayed only a minute, hugging me tightly.

"Congratulations. I heard you were number one in the class." She'd whispered, her words a jumbled rush. "We miss you lots, Everly. You look beautiful tonight." She smoothed a section of my bangs out of my eyes, and my chest tightened at her maternal touch. I missed her, but I did not miss Amity. She'd squeezed me tightly, then slipped away, airy as ever.

I had spent the night with Eric's fingers on me, slipping over any place that he found appropriate. At one point during dessert they had skimmed over my thigh, tensing against the silky fabric.

Now, his gaze is cold and curious.

"Jeanine's latchkey." He throws out.

"Ashely?" I run my fingers through my loose hair and turn to face him.

His face turns impassive and I wonder if the two of them have had some sort of relationship. I have the sudden image of Eric and Ashley, tangled together on this same bed that I'm about to climb into. I try to ignore the thought. When it comes down to it, I don't know much about Eric. Sure, I could name a dozen or so off hand facts about him, but beyond that, I know only bits and pieces about him.

"She spent a lot of time glaring at you." His tone is both biting and casual, and I have yet to see how he could find fault on my part. "As soon as you got up she went right after you." He reclines back, his eyes fixed on me.

I make my way towards the bed, and I stop between his legs. He stares up at me, spreading his legs as I step closer. "She seemed to know you." I tell him. He grunts, noncommittally. My hands find the collar of his shirt; the fabric is rich and soft beneath my fingers, unfamiliar after months of touching the roughness of his jackets. I find the third button and I work it through the hole.

His hands find my waist, jerking me towards him.

"She said you never bring anyone to the dinners with you." I inform him. I undo the fourth button, please when the hard pale planes of his chest come into view.

"I don't." He snaps. His fingers dig into my side.

"Did Max insist you bring someone this time?" I reach the fifth button, and he shifts against the bed.

"No."

"She said you'd be done with me soon." His shirt falls open, and he lets go of me briefly to shrug it off. It falls to the floor without a second thought.

"Impossible, seeing as how you start training with me in a few weeks." He settles his hands back on my waist, and this time yanks hard enough that I'm flush against him.

"That's not what she meant." I find his grey eyes, and chew the inside of my cheek. "She said not to be devastated when you don't fall in love with me."

His eyes flash with something unreadable. Anger, frustration, annoyance. I'll never know. He doesn't give me a chance to stare in them for very long. He pulls me until I am seated on one of his legs, his mouth greedily finding my neck. He shoves my head to the side until my neck is exposed, and his mouth latches onto the skin below my ear.

"Is that what you want?" His words are a hiss, and his grip on me tightens. "You want me to fall in love with you, Amity?" He bites down, nipping at my skin. It seems he would eat me alive if I let him.

"You…you can't call me that anymore." I tell him. When he's like this, dark and concentrated, it's hard to think around him. His mouth works against me, and his hand frees itself from my waist, moving to pull the fabric down my shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Everly." He throws out the mock apology as he suddenly stands, lifting me easily before turning to drop me onto the bed. I land with an embarrassing squeak. I bet Ashley has never squeaked in front of him.

He stands at the end of his bed, his hands reaching to undo his belt as he smirks down at me.

I feel surprisingly relieved.

This is the Eric I know. The one with the smirks and the teasing words, the shameless touches and the burning behind his eyes. The Eric that seemed tense and unsure- dare I say, emotional, is long gone. My lips part as he steps closer. He moves at a glacial pace; it's seemingly hours before he slides his pants off.

He wastes no time in knocking me backwards. He climbs atop of me, shoving the skirt of my dress up as he moves his way long, his fingers everywhere.

"You didn't answer me." He's over me now, his lips touching mine briefly. He bares his teeth in a wide grin, his eyes dancing with enjoyment. I can't move beneath him, and he takes one of my hands and presses it upwards, above my head.

"You want me to tell you how pretty you are? How much I can't stand to be apart from you?" He lets go of my hand, slipping his own into my hair. He cups my neck, angling my head towards his. "You want me to make love to you? Is that it?"

He says his final words with a dark growl. He sounds feral, almost savage. I can't answer him. Words are gone from my brain. I've never contemplated any of this with him, but I'd be a fool to say I didn't want him to utter sweet words to me. Even if I were able to answer him, he'd snarl at me that this isn't him, that he doesn't have anything sweet to say.

The only problem is that I have seen another side to him, and he's thrown off that I have.

How this will work when I'm about to spend the next six months under his supervision is beyond me.

He doesn't wait for my answer, probably because he's smart enough to figure it out on his own. His mouth finds mine, greedily kissing me and grinding his hips against my own.

Tonight, he will not be gentle.

 

 

I open my eyes to a dark room, letting them adjust for a moment.

The room is cold as ever, but I am warm, my body half buried beneath Eric. His head rests on my chest, one of his arms thrown over my stomach. I can blearily remember the past few hours; they blur together in a sweet tangle of hot touches and warm flesh. It's not enough; I feel almost gluttonous. It's as though I'll never be satisfied with what burns between us. I could wake him up right now, and let him slide over me, into me, happily sinking against him.

Every inch of me burns where he touches me.

He didn't make love to me, not by a long shot.

But it's the moments like right now, his head buried against me and his arm possessively holding me in place, that I know there is more to his touches. There's so much to Eric that goes unspoken, but always by his own choosing.

I close my eyes and let myself drift off, still sleepy.

I'll get it out of him.

 

 

Karl hugs me much too tightly.

He engulfs me, his large frame similar to Eric's yet still slighter.

"We did it! Number one and Number two!" His voice is proud, and I find myself smiling at his enthusiastic tone. The final rankings were posted sometime during the leadership dinner, and since I wasn't there, I missed out on the glory of seeing my name as number one. Or horror. I can just imagine Four's class reacting to that final announcement.

The cafeteria is mostly deserted right now. It's late in the afternoon, and most of Dauntless is off working or already done with their lunch. I was delighted to find Karl still here, not really wanting to eat alone.

Eric had slipped out earlier. I had still been in his bed, naked and half asleep when he'd informed me he was leaving. His hands ghosted over my cheeks, and he was gone before I could process what he'd said. I didn't really want him to go; but the front door shut before I could protest.

Karl and I eat lunch, and I listen to him talk about his training with Four. I relish in the small gossip; Drew never having fully recovered from the embarrassment of our fight had almost been cut, Mikey – a tall and unfriendly boy with long blonde hair- had nearly lost it upon realizing he was terrified of no less than twenty three different fears, and Dax, a dark haired boy from Candor had seemed to develop a small rivalry with Four.

I grin, taking a sip of my lemonade. "How did Four take that?"

"You could tell he was annoyed. They were both really good at the hand to hand combat. Almost on par with each other. But Four obviously was better. Dax couldn't deal." Karl laughs. I find myself grateful I didn't have to deal with any of this. The worst of my training had been discovering that I didn't hate sleeping in Eric's bed.

Not that Karl needed to know this.

I wasn't quite sure what anyone thought of Eric and I. During the training he'd kept us very separate from almost all of Dauntless, but I hadn't minded. We had piqued the interested of a few people. There were a few hints here and there; Max's teasing words at our lunch, Arlene's concern over the state of my sexual status, Four's very obvious unease. But for the most part, I don't think anyone paid too much attention to where I walked home to every night.

We finish our lunch quickly, and I accompany Karl to select his apartment.

We stand in the long line of former initiates, each one happily chatting away as they wait to be assigned housing. A few of them smile in our direction, but most of them pay no attention to us.

"So I decided to take a job as a patrol guard. I'm hoping to work my way up to a supervisor position." Karl tells me as we near the large window. Two ladies sit behind the window, each one tapping away at a computer and handing over small packets with keys in them. Most of the newer members will share an apartment with a friend.

"You'd be a good supervisor." I feel guilty, I'm not really paying too much attention. My mind has wandered, wondering if Christina is working. I wanted to fill her in on my night.

We reach the window, the Karl happily gives her his name. Because he's ranked second, Karl is given the option of having his own apartment without sharing. He eyes me for a second, before casually asking if I've already been assigned one.

"Hmm?" I look at him, having zoned out.

"Can you look her up? Her name's Everly." He tells the lady. Her fingers fly at the keyboard, typing in my name before I can yelp in protest.

"Oh, no! Karl, I'm good. I've been assigned…" I'm trying to stop the lady before she announces I don't need an apartment. Max had told me to keep quiet, and I don't want to cross him. The lady behind the glass interrupts me.

"There's only one Everly in the former training class. Everly..." She hesitates, her eyes landing on me.

"What's your last name?" Karl asks me, his eyes squinting in curiosity. "I think the rankings only had your last initial."

"It's …" I'm dying. I know what Eric has filled it out as, and I have the sudden image of my name flashing, along with his last name, for the whole compound to see.

"Coulter. Everly Coulter." The lady announces. She's staring at me with great interest, her hands frozen above the keys. The lady beside her has stopped looking at her computer screen and is staring at me intently.

Confusion flashes across Karl's face. "Isn't that Eric's last name. Are you… are you related to Eric?"

I grow hot. If Karl only knew what I was doing last night; the way Eric and I tangled together until we blearily fell asleep with him atop of me, he wouldn't be asking me if Eric and I were related.

"Uh no." I tell him, trying desperately to come up with a plausible explanation. "We're uh…"

The lady behind the desk chooses that moment to seal my fate. "Spouses may not share more than one dwelling space. If you and Eric need more space, you'll need to fill out the proper paperwork. We don't have enough apartments for you to both keep separate residences."

Karl's expression is nothing short of shock.

"I'm not...I'm not his spouse." I hiss at the lady, shoving my way closer to the window. She raises one perfectly arched eyebrow at me.

"You have his last name, and there's no option to edit it. It also shows a status update that as of yesterday, you fall under his bracket for census reporting."

"What does that even mean?" I throw my hands up in the air, completely lost. "I don't know what you're telling me."

"Under the dauntless records, you are listed as his spouse. You'll have to take it up with your husband if you'd like to be accounted for under a separate listing."


	16. Here Comes the Bride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can not believe we have made it to chapter sixteen of this story! As always, thanks so much for reading & reviewing! I'm officially on vacation, but I wanted to post a tiny update before I go spend the next four days waiting in line!
> 
> If you happen to be in Disneyland, come say hello. I'll be the one dying in the long ass line to meet every single princess :P

I storm back to his apartment, warm embarrassment flooding through my veins.

The thing with the last name, I could deal with that.

Sleeping in his bed, sleeping next to him, with him, I could deal with that.

Hell, I could even deal with the snail's pace of emotional progress we'd been making.

But I couldn't quite deal with him marrying us off, let alone not even bothering to tell me. It's not so much the idea of being married that bothers me. I'm sure at some point in time, in any relationship, one usually starts to think about a future together. About proposals and marriage and a wedding party. But of course, this is Eric I'm dealing with.

He didn't even ask.

I grit my teeth. My hands curl into fists as I near his apartment. I'm suddenly so angry I see red. He sure seems hellbent on keeping me close to him, but he could have so much as mentioned what he was doing. My mind flashes back to the papers I signed yesterday. I knew the last one seemed fishy; Max had barely checked in on my training, yet suddenly Eric needed someone else's signature on one of the papers? I should have made him explain them, and not have been so distracted by his very presence.

I fling the front door open and rush through, preparing to give him a piece of my mind. I may enjoy everything I've shared with him; this very apartment, our nights together, even his cranky moods. But I don't enjoy being kept in the dark about my own marital status.

"Something wrong?" His voice breaks my thoughts and I come to dead stop halfway past the kitchen. He's sitting on the couch, clad in a pair of boxers and not much else. His posture is lazy; he's reclined back with his feet up, a laptop perched in his lap. "You look a little…" he pauses, cocking his head to stare at me with great interest. "Bothered."

"We need to talk." I inform him. I put my hands on my hips and storm towards him, ignoring the way he stretches indulgently before eyeing me up and down. He looks annoyingly pleased at the sight of me before him.

"Ok." He puts the laptop on the table in front of him, and looks up at me with a fake innocence. "Go ahead."

I glare at him.

"When were you going to tell me that we were married?" The words come out as hiss, a tactic he's very familiar with. Eric raises one eyebrow at me, a smug look crossing his face.

"I wasn't aware we were married." He keeps his voice even, but his eyes flash with amusement. I have the sudden urge to punch him. He knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"Then explain to me why the lady at the housing assignment said I'm listed as your spouse." I try not to yell my words. I don't actually know if anyone lives next door to him, but I don't need them over hearing this particular argument.

"And why were you at the housing assignment office?" Eric counters. He shifts on the couch, moving his arms behind his head.

"Don't change the subject." I snap. " I went with Karl."

Eric rolls his eyes. "Ah, yes. Karl. I suppose he would need help finding out where he'll be living."

His words irk me, and I take a step closer to him.

"Don't be a jerk." I tell him, searching for the worst word I can come up with. It's slightly pathetic, but even in the midst of my anger, I can't call him anything worse. I cross my arms across my chest. "The lady said I needed to talk to my husband if I wanted it changed."

Eric merely shrugs, unaffected by my weak insult. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"Oh, I don't know." My tone takes on a sarcastic intonation. "Maybe you should have informed me that I was signing a marriage license last night…"

He stands suddenly, his full height towering over me as his chest presses against mine. "Don't push this any further." His voice is angry now, tight and controlled. "It's easier this way. Trust me."

"What's easier?" I stare up at him, refusing to back down. "The census report? It can't be that big of a deal for me to be counted on my own." He stares at me, his eyes seeming to bleed into a darker steel as he becomes more annoyed.

"It's for your own protection." He finally snarls. "You're not only listed as my spouse, you're listed as my beneficiary. It offers you continued protection if something were to happen to me."

My eyes widen, and I freeze in place.

"It's only assigned to spouses, and I had to figure out how I could apply it to you. By signing those papers, you're protected. It leaves you out of anything I wouldn't partake in myself." His eyes narrow unpleasantly. "There are upcoming plans that I don't want you involved in. This allows you to stay out of them without drawing suspicion to you. Especially as a leader in training. They'd normally expect your unquestioning participation in whatever they ask."

"I…I…" I can't think of anything to say. I'm stunned. My brain works quickly to process what he's told me. "What are these plans you don't want me a part of?"

He stares at me, his gaze bordering on extreme exasperation for a moment. "I'll tell you when you need to know." He looks to the side of me for a moment, and then his eyes slip down to mine. "Are we clear?"

I bite my lip, nodding at him. My anger has subsided substantially at his reasoning. I can't very well be mad that's trying to keep me safe, even though his method is a tiny bit unconventional.

Eric doesn't smile. He places his hand in my hair, weaving it through until he can pull my head upwards towards him. "Until then, you'll refer anyone who asks about your marital status to me. Or you can answer it yourself if you chose to. Understood?"

"So, we are married then? Really married?" I ask him, tilting my head up at him. I want to hear him say it. To admit out loud that he's taken it upon himself to arrange our marriage even under the vague notion of keeping me safe. He averts his gaze for a moment, before he nods ever so slightly.

"Yes."

"Oh." My eyes fall from his for a moment, his words making the situation crystal clear.

When I meet his eyes again, he's watching me carefully.

"I would have mentioned it, but we were late for dinner." Eric throws out casually, as though he merely forgot to tell me that it might rain tomorrow. I nod again, unsure of what to say. It strikes me that odd as it may be, this is his attempt to take care of me. In his own way. His grip in my hair tightens. He bends his head down, his lips finding my forehead in an uncharacteristically soft way.

"This isn't a game, Everly. I'm trying to keep you safe." He mumbles it against my forehead. I feel myself giving in, leaning forward as my arms slip around him. His chest is warm against my cheek, and he smells like soap.

"I know. You still could have told me." I look up at him, feeling slightly bad at my outburst "Sorry I called you a jerk."

His lips twist upwards, and he huffs. "That's hardly the worst thing I've been called."

"What are you trying to keep me safe from?" I crane my neck up to look at him.

"We'll talk about it later." His gaze is seriously again, his eyes back to their normal intensity.

"This conversation isn't over." I tell him.

His grip merely intensifies. "Of course it isn't."

 

 

He explains his reasoning a bit more while we eat dinner.

He's made some sort of stir fry; noodles, veggies, and chicken and it's got to be the most delicious thing I've ever eaten. Being angry at him has made me hungry, and I'm quiet while we eat.

"Jeanine is planning a hunt for those that she feels aren't particularly loyal to their factions. She's been working with Erudite on several different ways to hunt these particular beings down. I don't want you to have any part in it."

"Is it dangerous?" I ask. I can't imagine what she's got planned, but I'm assuming the collaboration means it's big.

Eric nods, and stabs at the chicken on his plate. "Some of it, yes." His words are a bit unsettling, especially seeing as how he's worried enough to marry me to keep me out of it. My mind flashes back to Arlene questioning me about my last name. I can remember scoffing at the idea of being married to Eric.

"You don't seem like the type who would want to be married." My eyes land on his, and he grunts in response before turning his attention back to his dinner.

I swallow a bite of my noodles, staring at Eric, my new husband.

The idea is ridiculous, and utterly absurd.

"Who signed as the witness?" I ask him.

Eric looks exasperated at my change of subject, and he exhales sharply. "Rylan."

I nod. I guess I figured as much.

"And Four."

My head jerks up to him, my fork frozen in midair. "What?"

He smirks, pleased at his own attempt at a joke. "Just kidding. Just Rylan. But Max was happy to sign off on it."

"Does he know that I wasn't aware what I was signing?" I take a bite of my dinner, and I set my fork down. "Maybe we should stop by his office so he can congratulate us…"

Eric's face tightens, and he motions towards my plate. "Eat your dinner. We can celebrate as soon as you're done."

His words make my cheeks burn, and I try to ignore him. "You could have told me, you know." I take a sip of my drink. Eric sneers at me from across the table.

"I don't really do marriage proposals." He informs me, raising one eyebrow. "It all seemed to work out well, anyway."

I glare at him in response. "Yes. It's exactly how I always dreamed it would happen."

This time he smiles, his lips turning up pleasantly. "Don't worry." He tells me, his eyes meeting mine. "I'll make all your dreams come true tonight."

 

 

I can't breathe, but that's nothing new. He's atop of me, sliding in and out with a devastatingly cruel slowness. My head drops back, allowing him better access to the already marked skin, and I can't help the soft whimper that escapes from me.

He made good on his promise from dinner; I'd barely finished helping put away the last dish before he stood behind me, and bent forward until his hands slid underneath my knees.

"Eric!" I'd yelped his name in surprise, and he'd merely smirked in return. He carried me to his bedroom, abruptly dropping me onto the bed and giving me no time to recover. His hands had slipped down my sides, his large frame over mine in an instant.

"Time to celebrate." He'd announced, glowering at me.

My hands now lace behind his head, and into the short soft hair at his nape. I try to work myself closer to him, groaning every time he slides his hips backward. "Harder." My words are a whine; I can feel myself growing frustrated with his deliberately slow pace.

Eric smirks against me, and pulls out of me completely. He stares at me for a beat, before he switches our positions until he's seated upright, and I'm on top of him. He holds my gaze, icy eyes staring up at me with all the attention in the world. His hands pulls me forward; the feel of his strong thighs beneath my own enough to spur me on. I ease myself down onto him, enjoying the pleasant stretch, and his hands find my hair, snaking into them with ease.

"So pretty." Eric murmurs against my neck.

My eyes fly open.

It's hardly the most poetic compliment, but it's by far the most vulnerable expression he's ever uttered to me. For him to dare whisper such a confession, even in the midst of consummating our marriage, that he finds me appealing to him, is momentous.

I wait for him to take it back; for his smirk to appear and negate any of the meaning behind his words. But it doesn't come. He presses his mouth, wet and open onto my skin, and trails upwards until he finds my lips. He kisses me fiercely, but there is a rush of affection behind it. He's not quite as demanding or rough, but my lips still part easily for him, allowing him whatever access he wants.

My hips rock against his, the friction pleasantly overwhelming.

"Eric." I gasp his name as he shifts closer, and he snaps his gaze to mine.

"Yes?" He asks, his answer drawn out. One of my hands is on his chest, and the other is around the back of his neck. "Better?" His words are groaned into my ear, and I feel myself grow warm. He holds me close, flush against him now, and I can feel a warmness building up in my thighs. He presses his lips back against mine, soft and full and downright lavish. It doesn't take much more for me to see stars burst before my eyes.

I come with him beneath me; his lips on my neck, repeating my name endlessly until it blurs together into one tangled groan, his arms pulling me taut against him.

I sink against him, drunkenly sated on the rush of raw emotion between us.

 

 

His hand brushes mine in the hallway.

The walk to the mess hall is long and dark, seemingly suddenly populated with all sorts of members of Dauntless. They seem to be grouped together along the hallways, chatting and laughing. I don't know any of them, but they are a blur of dark clothes and wild hair.

His fingers graze mine again, just the barest of touches.

He doesn't look at me, simply keeping his gaze straight forward, his walk more of an arrogant march than anything. He's dressed in his normal uniform, including a dark vest that seems useless against the cold weather, and a different pair of boots. He seems taller to me, his posture ever proper.

His fingers brush against mine again; his skin hot against my own.

The fourth time it happens, I reach out of for him, and slide my palm flat against his own before my fingers slip between his.

The action is minute, really. But Eric keeps my hand in his, his grip tight until we reach the entryway to the hall. He lets go, with a beat of reluctance in his stormy gaze, as Rylan and Jason appear. Both look overwhelmingly amused, and I don't doubt that they caught sight of what I'm assuming is an obnoxious display of affection for Eric.

I don't mind.

I watch him stare them down, annoyance across his face.

 

 

"You didn't think we wouldn't have wanted to attend that wedding?"

Christina looks slightly livid, her features scrunching together in absolute distress over not being invited to the nonexistent celebration. Tris sits beside her, looking curious but suspiciously avoiding my gaze. She seems very intent on her sandwich, despite the fact that it's severely lacking any sort of actual taste.

"There was no wedding. I didn't even find out myself until the housing assignment lady informed me of my new marital status." I tell them, taking a bite of my lunch.

Christina's head jerks up. "He didn't tell you. At all?" She raises an eyebrow, her eyes widening. "I don't know how I feel about that. It's romantic, but it's also slightly insane. Who just marries someone without telling them?"

I shrug, trying to keep a straight face. "Eric. He said he doesn't do marriage proposals." I put my sandwich down, trying to decide if I want any more of it or not. Christina shakes her head, apparently having come to a decision on the matter.

"Well he doesn't need to worry about it anymore." She laughs. She elbows Tris, turning a suspicious eye to her. "You okay over there? You're awfully quiet."

Tris slowly looks up, her eyes meeting mine for a quick second before she looks away.

"Tris. What's wrong?" Christina asks her, worry crossing her features.

Tris sighs heavily, and she looks up at me with a terribly remorseful expression on her face. "I should have told you."

"What? I ask her. "You should have told me what?"

She frowns, biting at her lip and turning her stare back to her plate. She's barely touched her food during our lunch, and not just because the cooks are having an off day. "I heard Eric ask Max for the paperwork. I was dropping off the reports from the week, and he was there."

I stare at her, my brain at a total loss for words.

"Please don't be mad." She sounds miserable, her voice small. "I didn't think he'd actually go through with it."

I continue to stare for a moment before I can feel myself scowling at her. "You could have told me!" My words come out as a high pitched shriek, and a few heads turn in my direction. "I mean, I'm okay with it. He explained why. But it would have been nice to know before I looked an idiot in front of everyone in the office."

Tris shakes her head. "I wanted to tell you before the dinner. I just completely forgot until I saw you with him, and I didn't want to bring it up with everyone around."

I nod and sigh. There's not really too much harm in her actions. I have a feeling Eric would have had me sign the papers whether I knew or not.

Christina narrows her eyes and throws a napkin at Tris.

"How on Earth do you forget that you saw Eric asking for a marriage license?!"

 

 

"Click here, then select export."

His eye twitches as I accidentally highlight a file and select import. The icon whirls, and then flashes.

"Sorry." I tell him, looking up at him sweetly through my eyelashes.

Eric has little patience for my lack of computer skills, and I want to tell him that as my husband, he should be aware that I've got little experience with the complex programs. I've been assigned a laptop and tablet, not to mention six large manuals that I need to read through, an electronic keycard that opens door in Dauntless that I don't even want to imagine where they go, and an email with my full name because ECoulter was already taken.

Eric glares at me, his hand moving to cover mine.

"Thank God you take better direction in bed than you do here." He scowls, trying to undo whatever it is I have just done. It's my turn to glare, and I decide I've had enough training for today. I don't officially start the training program for over a week, but Eric had delightfully announced he wanted to begin early.

Of course.

"That's a rude thing to say to your wife." I inform him. I slide out of the chair and stand up, done with this lesson.

"Sorry." He mutters.

I stare at him for a second, pleased that he's apologized.

It only lasts a minute.

He starts swearing suddenly.

"What?" I ask him innocently. Eric's gaze finds mine with a look that swings between murderous and more murderous.

"You just imported every single Dauntless simulation ever recorded onto this laptop."

I bite my lip, hoping that he still finds me pretty. "But that's a good thing, right? I'll need them on my laptop."

His eyes narrow and he bends his head down, resting his head in his palms. "No." His response is muffled. "And you did it on my laptop not yours."

I scowl at him, not really sure how I was supposed to know. I figured he'd have me practice on my own. There probably wasn't anything on it that was of much importance. Who knows what Eric keeps on his? I suddenly feel the tiniest bit bad, but not remorseful bad. Bad like I might just be in this way over my head.

Eric sighs from behind his hands, and raises his head up. "Come back here. I'll show you how to fix it."

I hesitantly take a step closer to him, and I'm surprised when he reaches out for me, yanking me onto his lap. He settles me against him, and I lean back into his chest. I'll never stop appreciating how warm he is, and or how familiar I am with that fact. He clicks a few buttons and I watch quietly; I can't keep up with what he's doing, but the next thing I know the file has stopped flashing, and I can feel Eric's nose in my hair.

"What's this button do?" I point to a small icon on the bottom, and it opens easily. It's shaped like a small box with a circular lense, and it opens a window that shows a reflection of myself, sitting atop Eric's lap.

"It's the program we use for video conferencing. This way leaders don't always have to attend meetings in person. We can communicate in real time with the other factions." He explains, and he moves the mouse over the bottom. The screen flashes for a moment, and a still image of Eric and I pops up.

"You can take photos and save them for later reference. It's helpful if say, someone from Erudite is presenting something and you want to remember it for later. While we usually receive a transcript of the meetings fairly quickly, this allows you to take a visual reminder."

"Interesting." I move my hand to cover Eric's and I click on the button again. It flashes again, and this time the picture shows mostly me, leaning towards the laptop.

I lean back and frown at my weird posture. "Get rid of that one."

Eric clicks out of the image. I turn my head to look at him. "Do you do a lot of video conferences?" I've never seen him on one, but that means nothing. He nods, and he looks up at me, a rare smile crossing his face.

"Don't download anything else while you're on here, ok?"

I nod at him, and the computer makes a flashing sound.

"You want anything in particular for dinner?" He asks me, and I shake my head.

"Anything you make will be better than whatever I had for lunch." I climb off of his lap and make my way towards the kitchen. I glance back at him, and I can see him staring at the picture on his screen. The two of us are frozen in time, staring at each other. The mouse hovers over a box in the corner of the screen. I watch as he moves it away, clicking elsewhere until a small drop down menu pops up.

He saves the image to his laptop.


	17. Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> I'm disney'd out and thanks for your patience :)

Karl avoids me in the hallway, his stare fixed firmly on the wall.

For a moment my stomach sinks like I've done something wrong, but when I really think about it, I haven't. I don't really know what Karl wanted out of our friendship but I never led him on. And I never really encouraged any sort of relationship with him. I do feel bad that he's obviously hurt by the revelation of my relationship with Eric. Karl was one of the few who hadn't completely dismissed me upon first sight. I sigh as a walk closer.

I try to smile at him as I near him and his friends. They look different now, as though they've been born into this faction. There is an air of toughness about them; they almost seem taller and wider than before. A few of his friends turn and mumble a greeting at me.

He looks at me for the briefest of seconds, and gives me the barest of smiles.

It probably doesn't help that Eric is right beside me, his large frame so close to me that his arm touches mine and his gaze full of contempt. He smirks at them, watching as they take a step back from him, and his hand slides around my waist, fingers curling around my hip.

It also doesn't help that I lean into Eric, ignoring the fact that his affection stems from his need to flaunt this in Karl's face. Eric stares at them as we walk past, his lips curling up pleasantly as his gaze falls upon Karl in particular.

It's a stark warning to Karl and his friends, that they will never ever have what Eric has.

 

Sunday goes by way too fast for my liking.

Eric and I visit some sort of trade market, and I can't help but feel joyous at the sight of everything crammed into the open air shops. He had explained that factions are welcome to trade between each other, and a few times a month they host sort of a bazaar for the bartering of goods. I knew a little bit about it; sometimes people from Amity would head out with baskets brimming with goods they had made. Johanna never encouraged or discouraged our participation; she only asked that we stay respectful to our faction and ourselves during these trips.

Today the little market is crowded, and it feels strange to be around those from other factions. They mill around me in different colors; blurs of grey, black, white, royal blues, and even a few dots of yellow and red. I watch as a man in a blue suit grins at one of the booths, happily handing over several thick books in exchange for two bottles of something. He looks pleased with his trade and the man in the dark jacket nods at him before they shake hands.

I make my way down the row.

Eric is lost somewhere a few rows behind me; he'd stopped at a table with shelves behind it, his eyes narrowing at the maze of books. I kept going and I found myself wandering towards a table filled with a variety of colorful flowers.

"Everly!" I turn my head in the direction of my name, and my eyes widen when I find Courtney and Sophia standing to the side of it. They both wave at me, their bright yellow dresses and long tangled hair a familiar sight. My eyes widen, and I race over to them, hugging both of them at the same time.

"I can't believe you're here!" Courtney tells me, excitement all over her features. She looks me up and down, and laughs. "You look so Dauntless!"

I shake my head at her. I don't really. My hair is mostly the same except for shorter bangs, and I've yet to pierce or tattoo anything on my body. Christina had jokingly suggested I tattoo my initials somewhere, but I'd rolled my eyes before informing her they were also Eric's initials. I've dressed as warmly as I could today- leggings, a dark long sleeved shirt, and a black hoodie I'd found in Eric's closet. I'd come across it on accident. I was looking for an extra hanger to hang up the new training uniforms I'd been given, and my fingers had found the soft fabric shoved very deep to the side of the closet.

Eric had merely shrugged when I asked him about it. It was much smaller than anything that would fit him now, and he'd looked oddly satisfied when I asked if I could keep it. It was large on me, the dark sleeves coming back my fingers and the bottom of the jacket hitting my thighs. But it was narrow and warm, and it still smelled like him.

"You guys look exactly the way I remember you." I tell her. Sophia beams at me, and steps away when a man in white asks her to help him pick out a bouquet. "How's everything in Amity?"

"Oh the same! You know. We had a party last week because Cecily and Kevin are getting married, and Johanna made apple pie. Then someone accidentally let the horses out and they ate a few of May's curtains." Her voice is happy, full of joy at the celebration and I can't help but feel slightly relieved that I am no longer there. None of that sounds remotely exciting to me anymore. Not that it ever did.

"I miss you so much. It's not nearly as fun to sit around the fires without you. But I heard you're doing really well in Dauntless." She's grinning, and there is nothing but honest happiness behind it. "I'm proud of you." She lowers her voice, glancing at Sophia who's happily arranging flowers. "Sometimes I wish I was brave like you."

I smile at her. "You are brave Courtney." I stare at her for a moment, her blonde hair braided off to the side of her head and her eyes bright. "And thank you. That means a lot to me."

She grins, but her smile falters nervously. "Oh, uh hello."

I turn, unsurprised to find Eric behind me. His eyes are narrowed curiously, and his lips curl in disgust when they hand on Courtney's yellow dress. He has an obvious aversion to bright colors.

"Hello." His words are a short, sharp greeting, but there's no ill will behind them. He steps close to me, his gaze falling to the table of flowers. I sometimes miss Amity's large greenhouses. A small section of them were set aside purely for the luxury of these wildflowers. There wasn't a single person in Amity who didn't have some sort of flowers in their home or sleeping quarters.

Eric reaches for me, his fingers tugging mine as he shifts his weight. "I found a table." He tells me, and for a minute I don't know what he means. I raise an eyebrow at him and he rolls his eyes. "For the kitchen. So we don't have to always eat on the couch."

"Where?" I ask him. I don't know what's more important- that he thought that we need a table or that he plans on us eating together far enough in the future to warrant one. Courtney is watching us with rapt fascination. The last time I saw her was during my visit with Eric, and I'd left chasing after him after he'd watched Landon kiss me. Eric vaguely motions in the opposite direction.

"Over there." He announces, widening his stance. He stares Courtney down as though daring her to talk to him.

"You go." She tells me, and she hugs me one final time. "I'll be back here at the end of the month if you want to come by and say hi." She whispers the words to me and I nod at her. Eric has lost all interest in Courtney, and he's staring at the flowers intently.

"Tell everyone I said hello." I tell her. Eric can hear me, and I watch him throw me a dirty look before he plucks a few flowers off the table. He looks at them as though they are alien before he sets them back down.

"Bye uh Eric. It was good to see you again." Courtney tells him. He sort of nods, and I watch Sophia's eyes widen as he passes her, and takes my hand again. He pulls me back into the crowd without another word and I wave goodbye at the girls. I barely notice the package in his hands, or the fact that Sophia and Courtney gape after us.

 

 

It appears that Eric doesn't always get his way.

The message pops up in Eric's e-mail late Sunday night, and it is more demanding than requesting our presence early Monday morning. Eric reads the e-mail with a look of displeasure, as though he already knows what's going to be said, and closes the window with an annoyed huff.

After a weekend of lazily sleeping in, it is painful to be up early for a meeting that is happening before I even start training for these sort of meetings. Eric escorts me along the way and he doesn't look overly thrilled as he marches me down the long hallway of leadership offices.

Max calls us into his office, closing the door behind him and motioning for us to sit in front of his desk. It is piled high with folders, loose papers, and more than a few cups of coffee. He sits down behind the desk and straightens himself upright, smiling easily across the mess.

"I'd just like to go over a few things before you start your leadership training." He rifles through the papers on his desk, clutching a piece of paper that he somehow is able to find rather quickly. "Mostly, I noticed that Eric has made some changes to the standard leadership curriculum."

I crane my neck towards Eric, wondering if all leaders in training follow the same curriculum, and if so just how many leaders are there? Where do they keep them all? I stare curiously as Eric, but his face is impassive. He shrugs at Max, ever unconcerned.

"Do you disagree with them? I took out what I deem unnecessary for her training. We covered more during her initiation than is expected."

Max looks unimpressed. He leans back, crossing one leg over his knee. "She'll need to complete all of it. Not just what you pick and choose." Max sets the paper down, staring directly at Eric. "You've negated several important sections, including inter-factional relationships."

Eric raises an eyebrow in response. "I figured she could work on that later. It's more important to learn the basics instead of focusing on whether or not she can name all of Jack's assistants."

Max shakes his head firmly, his eyes narrowing. "Part of being a leader here requires Everly to be familiar with other faction leaders. It's mandated for her to know them. We must maintain neutrally pleasant working relationships with the other factions." He stops and takes a drink out of one of the coffee cups, grimacing after he swallows.

"Everly will visit Amity with me in a few weeks, and you can take her to Abnegation, Candor, and Erudite as your schedules sees fit. She also will be required to shadow two leaders other than yourself."

There is a crack as Eric's spine shifts in an unpleasant manner.

"Fine." He mutters. He doesn't look at me; he simply keeps his stare on Max. "She can shadow Tori and…"

Max cuts him off. "She'll choose them herself, Eric." He looks over to me, his eyes now amused. "You and Jeremy can shadow them together. He still needs to complete that part of his training."

I nod at him, trying to watch Eric out of the corner of my eye. His posture tells me he's not enjoying this conversation one bit. "Okay." I smile, secretly pleased that he's vetoed Eric's over ride of not visiting Amity. While I don't have any lingering loyalty to my former faction, I want to be able to at least say hi to Johanna from time to time.

"She's also required to continue her combat training, along with the two weeks of tactical planning and instructional training." He grins widely at the last one, and the muscle in Eric's jaw twitches.

"She doesn't need to learn how to teach the initiates. Isn't that Four's job?" His words are cranky snarl, and I can tell he's rapidly approaching the limit to his patience.

Max simply stares, and then shifts his gaze to me. "If the need be, I think Everly would make an excellent addition to the training classes. Look how well she did in yours."

Eric says nothing.

I sit up straighter. I find myself suddenly intrigued with the idea of learning to be a trainer. It might be interesting to get to work with the initiates, especially after all that I've learned. My own training was such a unique experience, and there is so much knowledge that Eric has imparted on me that would be beneficial for all new members to know. To combine it with Four's more classic version could make for some strong initiates. My brain whirls with ideas of how to merge the two methods together.

"Would I train with Four?" I ask Max, and he nods.

"Four and Lauren."

I can almost feel the annoyance radiating from Eric now. He's still silent, his jaw clenching unconsciously. He exhales sharply, and I prepare myself for him to reach across the desk and strangle Max.

"Anything else?" I turn at the sound of his voice. He's pissed off, and his tone tells me that he's utterly annoyed with the changes to his agenda, but he's trying to restrain himself. "If you're so unhappy with what I feel she needs to learn, why not just train her yourself then."

His latter words sounds downright nasty, and he stares at Max with a cold disdain. "Is all this really necessary?"

Max rolls his eyes. "Just because you want her to train with you and only you, does not mean the rest of the training is unnecessary. You aren't the only leader here, and it'll do her some good to spread her wings a bit." His eyes shine at me, and I can't help but feel torn. Part of me is thrilled- the prospect of getting out and working with different people and different places is exciting, just what I was searching for when I left Amity. And I'm proud of myself that Max sees enough in me to push me further than what Eric had planned.

But a part of me, a very large part, doesn't really want to be separated from Eric

But I can do it. I know I can.

"What will I do with the other faction leaders?" I try to change the subject, except all the subjects are the reason Eric's mood has soured. Max shifts in his seat, and shuffles his papers.

"You'll meet with them to discuss some security features we're implementing. I'll make sure you have all the details you need before you go. You'll work with them to develop plans that work along their timelines, but you'll also need to make sure they are well aware that this isn't optional." He stops, and throws a look at Eric. "You'll just need to take a few pages from Eric's book when it comes to bulldozing through their protests."

Eric is silent. He cocks his head to the side for a moment before standing abruptly and ending the meeting on his own terms. "Is there anything else you need before we go?"

Max shakes his head. "Not off the top of my head. I'll e-mail both of you the list of changes I've made, along with a copy of when they need to be done by. Enjoy your next week off, Everly."

I nod, and stand up, ready to follow after Eric.

Max flashes us a wide smile.

"Oh, and congratulations on the marriage."

 

 

"Are you afraid I'll run into Landon if I go back to Amity? Is that why you crossed it out?" I ask Eric as we walk towards the elevators. He rolls his eyes while angrily shoving the call button for the elevator multiple times. "It's not like I'm going to see him and be overcome with the desire to go back there."

Eric turns, one eyebrow raised in annoyance. "I'm not afraid of anything of the sort, Everly." The emphasis of my name sounds sharper than normal. "I've made sure you're well taken care of here. I see no reason why you would even want to visit there."

I shrug. "It's not a big deal, Eric. I'd like to be able see Johanna again. And she'd probably agree to whatever security measures you want to implement if I was the one suggesting them to her." I don't doubt that Eric can convince people to do whatever he wants them to do, but I know that Johanna works differently than others. She's softer, kinder, and more inclined to listen to calm words than demands of action. I don't know any of the other leaders really, but I'm sure they all respond differently as well.

Eric stares at me as though I've just spoken to him in another language.

"Then go have fun." With those words, he storms off in the opposite direction, nearly knocking me out of the way. My jaw drops slightly at his sudden departure, and I get the sinking feeling this might just be our first fight.

 

 

I get my bangs trimmed.

They've been in my face for the past week, and they are starting to grow even more annoying. A different lady cuts them, angling them more until they lay better.

"They look great, thank you." I tell her. They are mostly out of my eyes now, and she's evened out the chunk that the last girl lopped off. She nods at me, holding my stare for a moment and judging from the curious expression on her face, I can tell she wants to ask me something.

I look up at her, and she finally speaks after a beat. "Are you really married to Eric?" She asks me softly. She sets her shears down on the counter. "I heard that you were."

"I am." I tell her. I'm pleased that my voice sounds confident, but my insides feel slippery. I haven't seen him since he stormed off, but I didn't want to run after him. I figured he needed some time to cool off after the meeting. I wanted to tell him that I understood why he was mad; I didn't really want to train with anyone else but him, but I didn't see Max letting this one go. And it couldn't be all bad. I could probably stand to learn a lot from the other leaders.

"Oh." Her answer is expected, but she looks the tiniest bit disheartened, although the idea bothers her. "I don't really know him. I just know he gets his haircut here." She tries to sounds casual and I smile at her.

"He does."

She stares at me for a minute too long before she takes a step back. "Congratulations. He must really like you." Her voice sounds a little down now, but I brush it off. I thank her one more time before I leave, and she nods as I leave her station.

I sign my name, writing Coulter without a second thought, and I hand the receptionist the ticket.

As I was walk back to the apartment, I can't help but think there's way too much about Eric that I don't know.

 

 

When Eric returns he is sweaty but slightly less angry. He's lost his uniform jacket, and I can only assume he went to work through his aggression. He walks right past me, his eyes squinting at my bangs before he opens the bathroom door with more force than necessary.

I listen to him turn the shower on, and I flop down on to the bed.

I don't like this tension between us. I'd much prefer the tension of him shoving his hands up my thighs, than tension of him being pissed off at something out of my control. I want to talk to him, to sit down and force him to open up to me.

There are a million things I want to ask him. I want to ask him about the girl that cut my bangs and why she seemed rather bothered by our marriage, I want to ask him about Ashley, about why he's so mad at Max, and most importantly why he doesn't want to hold my hand in the mess hall. I close my eyes and listen to the shower, lost in my thoughts. He emerges suddenly, his damp hair slicked back and his skin still wet.

"Are you still mad?" I glance up at him, ignoring the way the towel hanging off his hips is seemingly held in place by nothing.

"No." He sets his mouth in a thin line, and yanks one of the dresser drawers open. I watch him rummage through the clothes until he pulls out a pair of his boxers. He turns to me, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not mad." He shrugs, and takes a step towards the bed. "You can train with whoever you want." His expression changes to something more of a leer. "I'm sure you and Four will have tons of fun together."

I look up at him, and realize he's at the edge of the bed now, staring at me as though I might vanish in the next moment. He turns his head to the side, his hands moving to the corner of his towel. "I can't wait to hear how much you learn from him."

I don't answer him, and he drops the towel without any warning and steps into his boxers.

 

 

On Monday, I find Four in the Pit and his eyes looks uneasy when I walk up to him.

"Everly." He greets me, shoving his hands in his pocket.

"Where have you been? I haven't seen you around in a while." I ask him without any sort of real greeting. I've been trying to keep an eye out for him, but he's been practically a ghost. In fact, I couldn't even be sure he was still in the compound. He frowns even further.

"I do have a job to do here." He tells me, crossing his arms in front of him. We stare at each other for a long minute of silence before he sighs. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Is Jeanine aware of the factionless? And what they're doing?" I'm taking a big risk here, but I've been mulling over Eric's words for the past few days. I have the sinking feeling these plans he's trying to keep me away from are in some relation to the factionless sudden interest in weaponry. Combined with Max's sudden plans for new security measures, I'm starting to feel a tiny bit uneasy.

Four's shoulders tense, and his brow furrow together. "I have no idea." He tells me firmly. His posture tells me otherwise, so I simply nod at him and decide not to press the issue.

"Okay." I tell him, smiling sweetly. "Oh, Max told me that I get to train with you for a few weeks."

He looks surprised, and I wonder how much goes on around Dauntless that Four isn't aware of. He finally manages to smile, and it looks somewhat real. "Max wants you to learn to train the initiates?"

I nod at him. "He said he'd like me to be able to step in if needed."

"I do things a little different than Eric." He informs me, his eyes narrowing. "But I look forward to hearing your ideas for the next class." He shrugs, glancing beside me. I turn my head, and I catch the incoming figure of Rylan making his way towards me. Four turns back to me, his stare curious.

"Eric's good with you training with someone other than him?"

I nod, not really ready wanting to share Eric's exact reaction. Somehow telling Four that Eric stormed off and went to beat the crap out of a punching bag after hearing the news seems unnecessary. Four presses his lips together and I can tell he doesn't believe me.

He doesn't say anything more before Rylan appears, greeting me with an overly enthused expression.

"Mrs. Coulter! I've been looking all over for you!" He yells to me, despite his close proximity.

"Hi Rylan." I glare at him, hoping he'll pick up on my telepathic plea to shut up. Several heads have turned behind him to stare at us, and I can feel their eyes staring at me. I'm not sure just how many people are aware of Eric's new marital status, but I have the distinct feeling it's not many. "What are you doing here?"

Rylan beams and throws his arm around me, ignoring my question. "Hey Four. You heading out to Clyde's tonight?"

Four shakes his head, and his eyes meet mine. "Not tonight. I'm overseeing third shift." He pauses, almost as if he's revealed too much information. "I'll see you around. I'll be on the lookout for Max's e-mail about the training session. Congratulations on your marriage, Everly. " He stares for a beat, his expression full of raw disapproval. I nod at him, mumbling thanks but he's already slipping away through the crowd and he doesn't look back.

"What's Clyde's?" I ask Rylan, trying to subtly dislodge his arm from my shoulder. It's useless; he steers me away from the Pit and towards a quieter section of the room.

"It's a small bar that just opened up about a year ago. It's not as flashy as some of the other hot spots here." He tells me. I stare up at him; his dark hair is pulled up into its normal bun, and his green eyes are brimming with some sort of excitement. I want to ask him just exactly what part of Dauntless seems flashy to him, because everywhere I've been has been mostly dark rock or slate granite.

"Eric used to frequent it with us, but he's been a little preoccupied lately, and I thought maybe you could guys could join us. We owe you both a celebratory drink." Rylan is grinning at me, and I can tell he's not about to let me out of this plan.

"I uh will have to ask Eric. I don't know what he has planned for tonight." I don't even know where Eric is. He'd dressed quickly today, slipping out of the apartment with the same annoyed expression he'd had since yesterday.

Rylan grins impossibly wider. "He's in his office. You should head up there and ask him." His eyes seem to light up suddenly. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Did you know? That he was planning to have me sign the papers?" I find my hands on my hips, and I stare directly at him. I wonder just how much information I can get out of him.

Apparently none. He shakes his head and snorts. "I plead the fifth." He takes a step back, but not before winking. "I'll see you guys tonight. Nineish. Eric knows where."

With that, Rylan is gone, and I am left standing in the small alcove by myself.

 

 

The bar is on the smaller side and slightly crowded.

There are large dark leather booths lining the walls, and deeply burnt wooden flooring that seems well worn for just being placed here a year ago. The lighting is a dim but not too dark, and there are metal lanterns strung up along the bar walls. In the corner of the room is a working fireplace, and above it there is some sort of bear head with its jaws stretched wide open to reveal its teeth.

I like it in here.

There is a smoky scent to the bar, and if I close my eyes, I can almost image that we are in the middle of the woods somewhere, rather than deep underground in the Dauntless compound. I sit on one side of the booth next to Eric, and Jason, Rylan, and a girl with long green hair sit across from us. They've ordered a round of dark amber colored drinks, and I've managed to drink half of one.

Eric sits beside me, one arm slung around me, his posture relaxed. When I'd found him in his office, he'd seemed to be in a slightly better mood. He'd almost smiled at me, shoving aside whatever paperwork he'd been focused on. We'd left his office together, his arm brushing against mine until he reached out and slipped his hand into mine, his grip tightening as we made our way back to the apartment. Things felt almost normal as we ate dinner, but he didn't offer up any further commentary about the training.

It was like he took great pains to avoid talking about. By the time we'd left to meet his friends, I found myself tired from trying to find ways to hint at him that I knew he was still annoyed. He's simply kept his gaze straight ahead, and all but marched us to the bar.

"Ok, ok, everybody. Let's get serious here. It's time for us to really get to know each other." The green haired girl has a high pitched voice, and I cringe against Eric every time she opens her mouth. I'm not sure who brought her, but I wish she'd leave. Rylan and Jason laugh with her, and it's obvious they've all had a few more drinks than Eric and I. I feel Eric stiffen beside me, and I know he's not about to open up about anything.

Jason perks up. "You start, Megan. What's the worst place you've ever been caught screwing what's his name?"

Megan snorts, her eyes flashing with delight. "His name…" She pauses dramatically. "His name was Emmet, and I have to say it was in the control room equipment closet."

Rylan makes a face but Megan and Jason start laughing. I shift in my seat, hesitantly taking a sip of the amber drink. It's warm and it burns, but it's not unpleasant.

Megan zeros in on Rylan. "Just think of that the next time you need to get a modem out of there."

He blanches, but he laughs after a second. "Fine. Jason, who's the last person you slept with? And don't say Denise because we all know you aren't banging the new nursing assistant." Jason throws him a dirty look, and his cheeks turn pink.

"Fine." He mutters. "Stacie."

Rylan's eyes widen in disgust or shock. I'm not sure which one. "My ex-girlfriend?" He looks horrified, then triumphant. "How was that case of crazy for you." Jason looks mildly embarrassed, and he flips him off.

"She was fine. She said to tell you hello, by the way."

Eric takes a sip of his drink as Jason turns his stare to me. "Everly, what's the most adventurous place you've had sex before?" He winks at Eric as if I can't see him.

"Outside." The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I suddenly feel hot all over. Next to me, Eric tenses and I can feel him cough as though his drink has gone down the wrong way and is stuck somewhere in his lungs.

Oh god.

A warm wave of panic washes over me. While outside is the most adventurous place I've had sex, it just wasn't with Eric. I'd only done it once; and only because Landon had found the idea utterly romantic. The moon and the stars above us, the dark night surrounding us as our only cover. It had been sweet and quick and itchy. Landon had wound up covered in bug bites, and I'd had to pick grass out of my hair for the next few days.

I try not to glance at Eric, and I can feel myself turning crimson under everyone's stares.

"Interesting. Eric must know all the spots where the cameras aren't. Nice man." Jason nods in approval, and I feel myself sink back into the leather of the booth. I can just picture the conversation that this will bring up.

"Eric where's the…"

"Pass. But nice try." Eric snaps. He takes a long sip of his drink, continuing until the glass is empty.

"Oh come on!" Megan protests and she bats her eyes at him. "I'm dying to know who the last person to warm your bed was." I have the sudden urge to throw my drink in her face, but I stifle it down as Eric's fingers tighten on my skin.

"My wife." Eric answers with a whole new level of coldness. His posture is rigid, and his eyes are narrowed at her with an unmatched disdain. "And neither of us will be answering any more questions tonight."

Megan's eyes fall to Eric's arm around me, and her eyes widen slightly. "Oh." She looks embarrassed as realization washes over her, and her head drops slightly. Jason and Rylan both look nervous now, more so when Eric removes his arm from around me and slides it onto my knee.

"I told you we were celebrating his marriage." Jason is trying to whisper to Megan, but he might as well be yelling. "You're an idiot." Megan still looks embarrassed, and the game quickly comes to an end. We sit for an awkward beat, Eric's fingers digging into my knee.

"I think it's time for another round!" Rylan breaks the silence, and motions the waitress over. The small talk starts up again, this time the three of them arguing over what to order. Eric's fingers trail from my knee up to the inside of my thigh. His fingers trace a figure over the skin, and I squirm as he continues upwards. His head bends down close to mine, his lips against my ear.

"I had no idea you were so adventurous, Amity."

The words aren't quite a hiss, but I can't help the one that escapes my lips when his fingers slide deep under my dress and graze the edge of my underwear. No one is looking at us, they are all fixated on the waitress and whatever special she is reciting. I try to keep my face neutral, as if I'm deeply interested whether or not Jason can handle something called Death in the Afternoon.

"But it's nighttime!" Megan protests with a giggle.

I bite my lip as Eric's fingers press against the fabric, moving it to the side and sliding underneath them.

"Are you feeling adventurous now?" His words are low and slick, and his fingers slip between my folds and he very lazily strokes them over my clit. His fingers are maddeningly slow, and I fight the urge to close my eyes. I press my legs closer, trying not to whimper.

The feeling is surreal; almost hazy as he continues his work. It's obvious he's in no rush despite our current setting. I want to yelp at him that my adventure with Landon was slightly more secluded than this bar. People buzz around us, but no one is really paying attention to our table.

I let out another whimper as he presses harder, and I can't help but push myself against his hand when he finds a particularly pleasant spot. I can feel myself pressing my hips forwards, and the wide smirk on his face tells me he's very pleased right now.

"Eric." His name comes out as a slight whine, and I pray that anyone listening thinks I've had enough for this evening and want to go home. He doesn't answer; he merely hums in response, and he strokes harder, and I shift as he slides his finger lower, and slips it inside of me. I glance at Megan, trying to focus on what she's saying. She's sitting across from me, hanging onto Jason and completely unaware that Eric is close to getting me off in the middle of this bar. Eric slides another finger inside, his thumb now rubbing deliberately slow circles against my clitoris.

He bends his head down again, this time pressing his lips to my neck. "Don't worry, we're gonna finish this outside in a minute." This time, I can't the small whine that escapes from me when he slips his fingers out of me, letting them brush against the skin of my thigh.

"Are you ok Everly?" Rylan's voice breaks through my haze. Everyone at the tablet turns to look at me. "You look a little red." He looks genuinely concerned; no clue that the redness of my face is from his friend fingering me seconds before. I bite at my lip and nod.

"Just a little too much to drink. I think it might be time for us to head home."

Rylan buys it, and he nods sympathetically. "I wasn't sure if you liked to drink. Take something tonight. Then you won't wake up hung over in the morning." He's trying to be helpful, but I want him to stop talking. There is a burning ache between my legs, and Eric's fingers are still on my thigh, much too far away from where I want them to be.

"Thanks." I mutter. I shove at Eric, and he smirks, his eyes flashing in the low lighting.

"I just need to pay." He tells me, and Jason shakes his head.

"No way, drinks are on us." Jason insists, and Eric shrugs, finally removing his hand from my leg. They bid us a quick farewell, and Eric stands and reaches for me, sliding me out of the booth. He positions himself behind me, and waves at his friends with a very fake smile across his face.

"Goodnight." He tells them with a mock cheerfulness. He stays close behind me as we make our way out of Clyde's, and my heart sinks with disappointment as we make our way down the walkway and towards the railing. I can see the rush of the waterfall, and before I can ask him where we are going, he shoves me up against the wall.

It's rough against my back, and Eric looms over me, his eyes dark.

"This is far enough."

His lips find mine, demanding as ever. His arms snake around me, and I kiss him back feverishly. My lips part when he bites at my lower lip, and his hands slide down my back, coming to rest beneath my ass. His tongue finds mine, and in my moment of distraction, he lifts me upwards. My legs part of their own, wrapping around his waist.

Eric breaks apart for a moment, and he grunts as he yanks me closer, then steps back until I'm pinned against the wall. My hands reach for the back of his head, jerking him closer to me. He lets go with one hand, and I can feel him fumbling with the button on his pants.

It doesn't register what he's doing until he shoves them down, and my hand comes in contact with the fabric of his boxers. I reach for him blindly, and when I find the hardness of him, he groans against my lips.

"And to think I've only had you in my bed." His words rush over me, hot and slick even. "That's not very fair." These words are hissed, his voice laced with rare jealousy. Little did he know if that's what he wanted, for us to finish this in a scratchy field of wheat grass and daises, I would let him.

"It never came up." I don't know if I say the words or just think them. He slides me down until my feet hit the floor, and he shoves my skirt up around my hips. Eric steps between my legs, and he attacks my mouth with a vengeance. He pulls my head towards him, his hand holding onto a fistful of my hair, before he breaks apart. He nudges my legs further apart, and with his eyes on me, shoves his boxers down.

For the first time, I can see him.

Well, what I've wanted to see.

Even with all our nights together, tangling warm in his bed, I've only seen most of him. Eric is so different than Landon; he's a whole other level of intensity. Most of our nights together have left me sated and sleepy, too drunk on him to even bother to see what I hadn't noticed before. But right now I take him in, thick and hard for me.

His piercing sits just underneath the head of his penis, the metal horizontal through the skin. For a moment I can only stare, wondering how on Earth he was able to let someone pierce him there. But the moment is fleeting, I reach out for him, my hand encircling his cock. I tighten my grip, sliding my hand up and down a few times and watching with great delight as his eyes close, and his head lolls back to expose his throat.

My name falls from his lips, and he thrusts his hips forward, shoving himself further into my hand. He allows me to touch him for just a few moments. His skin is soft and hot, the tip of him weeping. I slide my thumb over the tip, spreading the wetness down his shaft and he jerks closer to me. He yanks my underwear down, and finds my eyes.

Eric's eyes are dark now, filled with lust and desire as he pulls me away from the wall and towards the railing. My hands grasp the railing, and I have a very good idea of what he's about to do.

One of his hands pushes me forward, and I bend over until I mimic the position from my rifle training. I can hear him behind me, his breathing coming in heavy pants and his hands slip under my dress until they find my hips. He unceremoniously presses himself against me, and I push my hips back against him.

"Told you I preferred this position." He hisses.

"Eric." I can only say his name as a plea now. He slides himself inside me, quietly groaning my name.

He gives me a second to get used to him. He still seems so much larger than Landon, and it takes a second until my body gives into the pleasant stretch. He begins to work against me, thrusting in and out with a practiced ease.

"Fuck. You feel good." Eric voice sounds vicious, and I wonder if he's been holding himself back. He holds onto my hair, and his other hand is firmly on my hip. I can barely begin to comprehend how exposed we are out here. Eric continues with a deliciously torturous pace, thrusting in and out, and slamming back into me. "Did it feel like this with Landon, Amity?"

I shake my head. "No." I managed to tell him, and my voice seems to echo. Eric's hand on my hip snakes down between my legs. He finds the slick nerves there, but his motions are sloppily distracted. I can't help the cry that escapes me lips, everything is starting to feel white hot. He's rocking against me, and I'm shoving myself back onto him and grinding myself against his fingers. I want more; I want him harder and faster and I'm so close that it's almost painful. His hand leaves my hair and covers my mouth, never stopping his hips.

"You better be quiet little Amity. Your friend Karl's down there, and I'm sure he'd love to come see what you're doing."

My eyes fly open.

I was unaware they were even closed, but the scene below me is enough to make me clamp my mouth shut. Not only is Karl a few floors below me, the walkway he's patrolling juts out and crosses beneath where Eric and I are. It wouldn't take much for him to hear us and look up.

I groan against his hand, and he thrusts harder, and I suddenly understand the sharp difference between what we've done in his bedroom and what we're doing here. It doesn't matter though; my want for him burns through me, stronger than anything I've ever felt. Behind me I can feel Eric tensing, his chest tight against my back.

"I'm so close." I try to be quiet, and my words are some sort of plea. "Eric, please."

His fingers begin to stroke faster, sliding easily where I want them. My head drops back, and I'm dangerously close to losing it, right out in the open.

"Never thought you would like this so much." Eric groans into my ear, and he presses his head against mine. "I want to hear you say it."

He's lucky I can still think.

"I like this. I like it a lot." I manage to gasp out, and he makes some sort of grunt of approval.

He rubs just the right spot, and the thrusts at just the right time, and everything explodes white hot. I can't focus on anything but the wave of pleasure spreading through me. I'm gone, lost in space as he keeps moving, and I barely register when he says my name as he comes, his hips slamming against me a final time.

I collapse back against him, my legs shaky and I can dimly feel him helping pull my underwear back up and smoothing my dress down. He pulls me close to him, kissing me soundly before letting me go. It's only minutes later that Karl rounds the corner as Eric is buttoning his pants back up, and I can't focus on anything but the fact that I just had sex in the middle of the compound.

My legs feel sticky, and Eric smirks at me as Karl makes his way past us.

"Thought I heard something." Karl mutters, and he retreats quickly.

I can only wonder if he caught sight of Eric's boxers, strewn on the ground beside us.


	18. Confessions.

Tuesday arrives with a bang, and it's mostly in the form of someone banging on Eric's door.

I feel Eric shift beneath me, but I don't move. My head is buried in between his neck and his shoulder, and he's heavy and warm with sleep. Ignoring the offensive sound, I simply curl tighter to him, and groan when he starts to shift away.

"That's it. We're moving." Eric sleepily snarls as he halfheartedly attempts to sit up. He gives up quickly; sliding back down and turning himself back towards me, his arms pulling me tight against his chest.

"They'll go away." He mumbles against my hair.

Neither of us move, and eventually, the knocking stops.

 

 

I awake slowly to a dull ache in my thighs and a head of tangled hair. I shove it out of my face the best I can, and try not to imagine what I look like. I hear the shower running, and I squint at the clock to see it's a little past nine, much later than Eric normally sleeps in till.

I don't climb out of bed until I hear the shower stop; and I hastily throw on Eric's dark shirt, my eyes falling to bathroom door. It's not that I'm nervous to see Eric; I saw him the entire walk back to the apartment. He looked completely and utterly satisfied -almost drunk and certainly not off of the alcohol we'd consumed. We'd brushed our teeth together, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror and he smiled a shit eating grin around his toothbrush. My cheeks had been red at the memory of him behind me, and he'd only looked pleased at their flushed state.

But now in the light of day, my thighs sore and my cheeks still warm, I can't help but feel slightly shy. Eric's obviously a bit more experienced than me, and he clearly wanted to outdo any act I'd shared with Landon. I could tell he was spurred on by his unnecessary jealousy. I'd made my decision about where I wanted to be, and it was obviously here with in. I wanted to tell him he was winning by a landslide; I'd never married Landon, I'd never curled myself so into Landon the way I did with Eric, and I'd certainly never had sex out in the very open, very public community I lived in with anyone other than Eric.

Part of me is pleased.

His jealousy is an indication that there's more beneath the surface of his emotions than he lets on. If it's the only way to start breaking him apart, then I'll take it. The thought of it all makes my heart race. To hold that sort of power over someone, to cause the minute changes in their very being that make them feel a certain way, is almost intoxicating. I want to make him feel the same way I do, and last night might have given me a way to get him to open up.

I open the bathroom door, and step into the warm room.

Eric is standing at the sink, slathering shaving cream on his face. There's a towel wrapped around his waist, and I stop to take in the dark maze of tattoos on his forearms. The pattern is familiar, but also not. It's stark against his skin, the black ink placed precisely over slope of his muscles. He turns to look at me; his eyes watching me carefully, before he turns back to the mirror in concentration. To see him like this is startling. Sometimes I catch him in these small acts, and I can't help but think how normal they make him seem. How no one else sees anything but the harsh leader he portrays- all hard edges and sharp corners even down to his words.

I slide up next to him, and stand beside him so I'm facing him, and peer up at him from beneath my bangs. He smells good; something that is Eric and whatever soap he's just used. He smirks at me, and I hoist myself up onto the bathroom vanity, kicking my bare legs against the stark white cabinets.

"Everly."He uses my real name, and he raises one eyebrow. "Well you certainly look well rested."

I can feel myself warm under his stare, but I ignore it. He fumbles in the cabinet for a second, producing a razor and I watch him slowly start one side. He's methodical; his motions are practiced and precise, just like everything about him. I watch him for a few seconds before I reach out.

"Can I do it?"

Eric narrows his eyes, but he finally hands me the razor, and moves to step between my legs. He stands with his shoulders broad, and he lifts his jaw the tiniest bit.

"Do you trust me?" I ask him, and I can see his lips turn up the slightest bit. I decide to push my luck this morning, to see if he will open up the tiniest bit.

"Can I ask you something?" It's only fair. I answered his friend's question last night and now it is his turn. I press the blade to his skin, and I swipe it upwards like I've watched him do. It's harder than it looks, and the last thing I want to do is cut him. His grey eyes flash with amusement, but he merely grunts in response. I take it as a yes.

"Did you sleep with Ashley?"

The words are out of my mouth as I press the razor at the bottom of his throat and glide it up over the tattoos on his neck and under his jaw. He stills, and he doesn't say anything until I move to rinse the shaving cream off the blade.

"Am I supposed to answer that question because you've got a razor blade against my throat?" His eye brow is near his hair, and I find myself smiling in response.

"Just answer the question." I tell him, my voice serious. I'm not sure why it is important that I do this right now. It's like last night exposed a raw part of me, and now I want it to be his turn. I start on the other side, and he shifts his head back slightly, giving me better access.

He's quiet for a long moment. His eyes look to the side of me, and he somewhat unwillingly answers. "Yes."

My stomach sinks. I had guessed he had, but hearing him say it out loud doesn't feel very good. I knew there had to be a reason she was so obnoxious at the dinner. I bite my lip and focus on what I'm doing. I use one hand to tilt his jaw a bit, and resume my position.

"In your bed?"

This time he flinches.

I stare at him, waiting for him to answer, and he grits his teeth. "Yes."

I nod at him, and I try to keep my hand steady. His stare is unnerving; it's annoyed but there's a hint of something else beneath it.

Regret.

That could stem from his decision to let me shave his face. I keep working, and I slide the razor up his cheek. I pull back a second to rinse the blade again and he stares right into my eyes with an intensity that sends a spark up my spine.

"She never slept in my bed. Not like you do."

His words make my stomach drop pleasantly. He's trying to compensate for something, and it warms the blood in my veins. I finish his other side, and he takes the razor from me, quickly giving his face a once over. He washes it off, splashing water against his face and patting his skin dry with a towel.

He looks back to normal, his skin smooth and flush. I try to imagine him with a beard, and it doesn't work. I've never seen him with anything other than the barest of stubble, and it feels wrong to picture him any other way. I reach my fingers out and trace the sharp corner of his jaw, and he lowers his gaze back to mine.

"Did you love her?" His eyes jerk up, and he looks uncomfortable. It's an unusual look for him, one that seems erroneous given his nature.

"No." His answer is rough, and I'm surprised I've gotten this much out of him. His eyes falls to my lips, and he bend forwards until his nose brushes lightly against mine.

"Do you lo…"

I don't finish my sentence, because his lips are on mine. He kisses me softly, his full lips pressing firmly against my own before he breaks apart. His eyes look dark, the grey icy as ever.

"Don't ask me what you're about to ask me." He tells me lowly. I swallow, nodding at him silently. "And if you must know, I prefer you, and only you, in my bed. Underneath me. On top of me. However you want it." His hands find my waist, and the next thing I know he's picked me up, easily made his way out of the bathroom and he dropped me onto the large bed. I smile up at him, pleased that he's answered some of my questions. He undoes the towel around his waist and climbs atop of the bed until he's over me, his mouth finding mine.

I don't ask him anything else, at least not for the next hour.

 

 

"I am so sorry. Really sorry." Jason's apology is wide eyed, and he seems woefully apologetic. "I didn't know that you'd been with someone else. I wouldn't have asked if I knew that was going to be your answer."

I stop at his words, my hands frozen half way to the muffins. I stumbled down to the mess hall to grab some late breakfast. Eric had headed out to his office, and I had finally forced myself up and into the shower. I hadn't planned on being cornered by anyone, especially since it was late in the morning. I have a feeling Jason was the mystery knocker this morning. It's apparent he's been waiting to find me.

"It's ok." I tell him, and I find a chocolate muffin shoved to the side. "I don't know how you would have known."

Jason frowns, and looks at me almost guiltily. His stare tells me he knows a lot more about me than I think.

"I mean, I knew you'd had a boyfriend." He mutters. Then he looks right at me, his eyes right on mine. "I'm glad you and Eric seemed to work it out. He seemed really pissed off." He throws out casually, and I can't help but wonder if he knows just how we worked it out. Mortifying is the only word that comes to mind when I think of anyone else knowing what we had done.

"He was. But he's fine now."

He certainly was was when he left this morning.

Jason nods, and he looks all too red. His cheeks have darkened and combined with his red hair he looks ready to catch fire. "Just don't want to cause problems between you two." He mumbles it while he reaches for a banana and shrugs. "I know Eric doesn't like anyone knowing his business, but I know he's happy you married him."

With that he slips away, and I decide it's time Eric and I have a long overdue talk.

 

 

Four bumps into me in the hallway, and he apologizes profusely until his eyes meets mine.

"Everly." He mutters my name, and the tips of his ears turn pink. "I uh…yeah good to see you. Again. I'm uh a bit late. Goodnight." He shoves himself past me, and I stare after him in confusion. It's almost lunch time, hardly nighttime. I stupidly realize he's worked the night shift and my stomach suddenly drops like I've had the wind knocked out of me.

My eyes flick upwards, and I suddenly catch sight of the small red dot in the corner, the surveillance camera mocking me from its inconspicuous position.

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

 

 

The needle slides into my arm for the third time, and Arlene is smirking widely. I'd almost think she and Eric were related since they seemed to enjoy the same facial expressions.

"You might feel a little bit sick today. The good news is you won't need any more vaccinations for the next few years. Unless Erudite comes up with something new." She wipes at my arm with a small alcohol swab, and sticks a band aid over the tiny marks. She takes a step back and stares at me, her gaze triumphant.

"I see you still have Eric's last name."

I shrug at her, and don't answer.

"Your form also has a status change to married, and Eric as your emergency contact."

I want to tell her that I'm sure it was like that before, and I doubt Eric would list anyone other than himself as my contact. I don't even have anyone else to put down as an emergency contact unless you count Christina or Tris.

"Yes." I tell her, my stare somewhere above her head. "We are officially married now." Her smile is annoying and all knowing. You would think she'd had a hand in Eric's sneaky marriage arrangement.

"Well that's nice. Should I stop your birth control shots then?" She's grinning as she scrawling something on the chart in front of her and she pauses to look at me over her glasses. "I can refer to you to the family planning counselor if need be."

"No!" I answer her, suddenly feeling hot. I can't tell if it's from the shots or the thought of telling Eric Arlene offered to stop my birth control. I could see him deciding a baby would be the perfect way to keep me home and away from the other leaders. She smiles, and this time I glare at her. "Whenever you change your mind you just let me know."

I'll do no such thing of the sort, but I don't tell her that. I can't even get Eric to confess that he actually likes me, let alone talk with him about our nonexistent future children.

"I know you two are probably very well versed in how to make a baby, but they can answer any other questions you have." She signs my chart and hands it over to me to take to the front desk. I slide off the table and mumble a thanks at her.

She's gone before I can glare again, and I stare down at the paper in my hand, seeing she's still recommending I take a damn multivitamin.

 

 

I fall asleep after lunch.

I start to feel crappy sometime after I eat my salad, and the shots must be kicking in. I feel warm and achy, and my head has an unpleasant throbbing to it. I trudge back to the apartment, and head straight for the bedroom. I crawl under the cool sheets and curl up. My eyes close before I can even wonder when Eric will be home.

I awake to his fingers in my hair, brushing my bangs out of my face.

I squint up at him, unsure of how long I've been asleep. I still feel somewhat terrible, as though I've come down with some sort of virus. One time Amity was struck with some sort of flu, and it was weeks before anyone felt well enough to leave their homes. I can still remember Johanna's mild panic when she was finally feeling better enough to realize how far behind we'd fallen in just those few weeks. I have the same feeling right now.

I fight the urge to shut my eyes again.

"Are you ok?" His words are quiet. He's still dressed in his leader's jacket, and his mouth is twisted downwards. "Do you not feel well?"

"No. I got the second set of shots today and Arlene said I might feel sick." I mumble it at him, enjoying the feel of his fingers against my skin. His eyes slide to the side for a second, and he frowns even further.

"I fell asleep when I got home. What time is it?" I ask him. His fingers are in my hair, pleasantly scraping against my scalp now.

"Eleven."

"Eleven?" My eyes widen and I sit up, knocking his hand out of the way. "I slept all day?"

Eric quirks an eyebrow at me. "Eleven am. You slept all night, too." He stares at me for a moment. "You got up for a minute last night, but you went right back to bed."

I stare at him, slightly horrified. "Is that supposed to happen?"

He shrugs indifferently. "Arlene said it could. It affects everyone differently." His eyes finds mine, and I stare back at him. He looks tense, and he's had the same air of uneasiness about him for the past few days. "Are you feeling better now?" Eric's words seem impatient, but there's something beneath them, something he doesn't like to express.

It's worry, but he's not about to confess that either.

I nod at him even though I want nothing more than to curl back up and fall asleep, and he seems relieved. "I got you something." He moves off the bed, and it suddenly seems large and empty without him. I watch him pick up something off the dresser before he makes his way back to me. Eric slides back onto the bed next to me, his shoulder touching mine. He shoves the package at me, and I gingerly take it from him.

"Thanks." I start to open it, undoing the brown wrapping until the corner of a book peaks up at me. For a moment I have the sinking feeling that it's something training related, something dull and long and full of memoirs of our past great leaders.

I'm pleasantly surprised when I realize it's another book about my favorite wizard. He's holding onto some large bird, dangling in front of a tunnel's opening. Eric doesn't say anything, he simply stares at the sheets in front of him as though they hold all the secrets to the entire universe.

 

 

My training packet is four hundred pages long, and neatly bound together in a heavy binder.

My eyes widen as I flip through it, trying to comprehend how I will get through all of it. There are work sheets, outlines, meeting agenda templates, list of factional qualities and expectations, and an index with all of the current leaders including a current photo – the one of Eric is him smirking, his eyes bright and his hair perfectly in place, a contact list of assistants, minor assistants, and a copy of the faction manifestos. There's also training plans, e-mail and meeting etiquette, a list of expectations – both physical and mental, and finally my marriage license, shoved in the back. My eyes narrow at it. It has Eric's neat signature, my own, and Rylan's sloppy scrawl as the witness.

I purse my lips together and I shove the binder away from me. I'll come back to this. I don't start for another four days, and I want to enjoy every free minute to the fullest. I glance around the quiet apartment, and I wonder if I can convince Eric it's time for lunch. He's taken the rest of the week off, and I found myself ridiculously happy that he won't be at work for the next two days. Now that I'd finally felt almost normal, all residual effects from the vaccinations gone, I wanted to live it up until I started on my official training on Monday.

I find Eric in the spare bedroom. The room that I first stayed in now feels foreign and empty. There is nothing in it except the furniture and some of my clothes and my bag from training. The bag is shoved in the corner on the floor, and Eric has the closet doors open. He's putting away some boxes and he turns to look at me in surprise.

"I thought you were reading your packet?" He returns to putting away the boxes, each one neatly labeled in his precise handwriting.

"It's four hundred pages long, Eric. I skimmed through it." I put my hands on my hips and watch him. He's dressed casually today. Dark jeans, a pair of dark boots I've never seen before, and a short sleeved shirt. He's apparently immune to the cold weather.

"Your wizard books are twice as long and you had no problem reading through that." He throws out. I watch the muscles in his arms tighten as he pushes a box in place.

I roll my eyes, glad he can't see me. "Well those are exciting."

He turns to face me, quirking an eyebrow upwards. "Oh, I'm sorry. Dauntless policy and procedures aren't exciting enough for you?" His gaze is intense, but there's a speck of amusement in it. "You don't like reading about the eight different ways it's acceptable to respond to another faction's requests for more paper products?"

I shrug, my eyes on the bed. It seems to weird think that I slept here. The room is freezing, more so than Eric's.

"Why is it so cold in here?" I ask him. "It's way colder in here than in your room."

It's Eric's turn to shrug, and he makes his way over to me.

"Couldn't tell you. I've never slept in here." He stops in front of me, and one arm goes around my waist, pulling me forward till I'm touching his chest. "I thought about it once. When you couldn't seem to quite figure out which bedroom was yours."

I glare at him and he smirks.

"Funny." I tell him, reaching one of my arms around his neck. "You sure didn't seem to mind." His hands are warm on my back, and I watch as his lips curl into a wide smile. He lets out a snort of laughter.

"I didn't." His tone is haughty, and he drops his stare. "I told you before, I like you in my bed." My heart races suddenly, the blood pumping too fast at his words. This admission from him is unprompted. It's come out of him all on his own, with little prodding from me. His lips find mine, but he breaks apart after a second. "Move the rest of your stuff into there. There's no point in keeping it in two rooms."

"Are you sure?" I ask him, my stare on the tattoos on his neck. One of my hands leaves his neck and trails down the pattern on his warm skin. The other day I'd noticed Max had a similar tattoo and I wondered if all the leaders had it. "I don't want to take all your space."

Eric swallows, and shakes his head. "It's not a big deal."

I lean against his chest, and I stay there until he suggests we go eat lunch.

 

 

Jeanine's plan doesn't exactly make sense.

Eric shows me the e-mail from her, and I'm curled next to him on the couch. I read it carefully, and then turn to look at him with confusion on my face.

"So she wants to find anyone whom she thinks is committing factional treason? Or will commit treason? What does that even mean?" I ask him setting the tablet down beside him. He shakes his head, frowning.

"Anyone that she thinks isn't in the right faction." He answers.

"How would you know they aren't in the right faction? Isn't that kind of…subjective?" My brain can't process what he's telling me. "I mean, we get to choose. That's the whole point of the ceremony."

He shrugs, his shoulders tensing. "You do. Say you chose Dauntless, but you suddenly start focusing all your efforts onto what's going on in Candor. She's looking for stuff like that."

It's my turn to frown. "But how would you even be able to look for that?"

Eric grimaces. "She's working on a way."

"Well that sounds stupid." I tell him. He rolls his eyes at me, and chews his lip for a second. "What's the initiation process like in Amity?" His gaze is curious, but I have a suspicion he knows full well what it's like.

"Um, so the transfers have to help in the fields for two weeks, then they shadow three or four areas of their choosing. There's agriculture, livestock care, the culinary center, uh pesticides routine and wild animal endangerment patrol…" I trail off, trying to remember all the different working parts of Amity. Because I was born into it, I simply expressed interest in shadowing Johanna, and I quickly learned her routine. I also volunteered to work with the horticulture experts. I'd been surprised to find that they worked closely with Erudite to figure out the best way to handle the large amount of food needed to supply all the factions. I'd quickly figured out it wasn't for me, but it was easy enough to get through.

Eric looks thoughtful. "Does anyone ever not make it through the Amity initiation?"

I think hard for a second. While the initiation to Amity was a cake walk compared to Dauntless, there was a similar separation between the transfers and those who had grown up there. "Occasionally. It was almost always a transfer."

He nods. "Did you know they don't give the transfers the peace serum?"

I shake my head. I didn't know that. I'd been guilty of not always eating the bread. It wasn't a huge secret that the bread contained a peace serum. Most ate it because it was calming. It gave you a warm buzzy feeling, as though you were pleasantly drunk on sunshine and flowers. I hated it.

"We use the serum in the simulations here. The simulations reveal more than just the person's fears. They show us if you lean more towards another faction. But it's not always accurate. You could have someone who received Dauntless as a result, but might still strongly identify with their original faction. The loyalty is often deeply ingrained, and doesn't just disappear in a few months. It's a flawed logic." He looks irritated, and he stares at his cuticles. "She thinks that's how we can find out who's more likely to commit treason."

"So she'll want it administered to everyone? Why doesn't Amity give it to the transfers? I never knew that?"

Eric's quiet for a minute. "Johanna claims it's because they want to see their true unaltered temperament." I stare at him, trying to remember if I'd ever heard anything about it. "Jeanine will push for all factions to use some sort of serum in their next initiation. Maybe before then. Abnegation doesn't use the serum either. But they'll be forced to."

A sliver of panic slides up my spine. "That seems a little disturbing."

Eric exhales sharply. "She's working on a new one now. She'll need volunteers to test it out." His words seem to hang in the air. "She'll come here first."

I freeze in place next to him.

"Don't worry, you'll be exempt, remember. She was curious about why you did so well. She didn't quite think it was all due to my training. " Eric turns me to now, his stare intense as ever. "Do you see why I wanted to keep you away from it all?"

I can't answer. The thought of Jeanine coming here, testing out some sort of serum that wouldn't even have accurate results is horrifying. I bite my lip, and try to calm my nerves down. I'm safe, but only thanks to him.

"Will she test it out on you?" I ask him, my heart suddenly leaping into my throat. He shakes his head no.

"She'll only go after those she thinks will yield a positive result to prove her theory." He tells me.

"Do have any idea who that is?" I look up at him, and he averts his gaze.

"Yes."

 

 

I find Karl on his patrol.

It's the first time I've ever ventured out of the compound without Eric, and I can't help the nagging feeling in the back of my stomach. I'd promised him I wouldn't leave without him, but I just needed to find Karl and it shouldn't take long. I'd told Eric I was going to go find him, and he's sighed reluctantly.

"Fine." He'd snapped. "But tell him to keep his mouth shut. There's no use in getting him all riled up." Though he completely disagreed that Karl should know he was being watched closely, he'd set out to come with me. My plan was almost thwarted when Max stopped us as we neared the mess hall.

"Eric, I need you to look at something with me. There's a problem with last night's surveillance. We're missing huge chunks of time from it. " Max's timing was terrible, and I watched Eric's jaw tighten in irritation. He gave me a displeased look, and nodded at Max.

"I'll meet you when I'm done here." Eric told me, his stare hard as I turned to walk away.

I set out immediately.

Karl's name had been second on the list.

There were others, thirty six of them in fact, but I only recognized his. My heart had sunk. Karl had seemed like he was built for Dauntless, and I couldn't possibly fathom him busying himself with the business of the other factions. But I couldn't be sure until I'd talked to him. If he'd talk to me. He hadn't exactly been friendly since he discovered I was married to Eric, and he seemed to almost align himself with Four's opinion on the subject.

I made my way towards the small group of guards that were standing in a neat row. Their heads nodded at me in a silent greeting, and I searched their faces until I found Karl. His mouth was set in a frown, and he seemed to straighten up when I neared him.

"I need to talk to you." I try to keep my voice low. He looks at me with disbelief, and shakes his head. "Please. It's important."

I watch the internal struggle rage on, and it's written all over his face. I vaguely wonder if he's from Candor. He finally sighs, and nudges the guard next to him.

"I'll be back in fifteen."

The guard nods, and Karl steps aside following me back a few paces.

"What do you need, Everly?" We come to a halt at the edge of the building. I glance out over the city, trying to think of the best way to tell him.

"Karl, are you…did you get Dauntless as your test result?" I keep my face neutral, and my eyes on him. I watch as his posture changes for a moment, his spine straightening as though someone's pulled him upright.

"I did." He snaps. "Why?"

"Because…" I stop, still unsure of what to tell him. That he needs to make sure he appears loyal to Dauntless and only Dauntless? That Jeanine is possibly making a serum to test out and he's second on her list of what she's calling volunteers. "Is there any reason someone would think you maybe made the wrong decision coming here?"

Karl looks at me with disgust, but there's a trace of panic in his eyes. "No."

"You can't think of anything? At all?" He's not making this easy, but I don't want to just blurt out what Eric told me. Karl grits his teeth.

"Fine. Four let me go home to see my parents."

"What?" My eyes widen, and my jaw drops. "What do you mean he let you go home? How did no one notice you weren't here?"

"How did no one notice you went back to Eric's apartment every night after your training?" He shoots back at me, and I ignore his words.

"Why did you go back?" I stare at him for a long time, until he sighs.

"My dad was sick. They didn't think he had long. Four granted me some leave of absence and I had to make it up. I only got to go because I was second in the rankings." He shakes his head. "Anything else Eric sent you to find out?"

I glare at him. His father must be someone important, and the seconds tick by as I try to think back to the leadership dinner.

"Is your father ok now?"

Karl shrugs. "Yeah, he's fine. They sent him to Erudite for treatment. He's home now. He's Jack's second in command, you know."

I stare at him, my brain whirling. "You need to be careful. Don't go see him again." I tell him.

He gives me a dirty look. "Wow, you've obviously been banging Eric for too long. Thanks for being so concerned."

"No, that's not what I meant!" I protest, but my words are cut short. Karl's head is turned to the side, his eyes narrowing in the distance. I follow his stare, and I can barely make out the figure heading out of the compound.

I take in the dark uniform, the messy brown hair, and the way they throw one cautious look back before slipping through the gate.

"Where is Four going?" Karl asks, looking confused. For a moment he's forgotten his new dislike of me.

"That's a good question." I tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's been following the story! The last chapter was definitely out of my realm as to what I've written before, so I hope it came off well. 
> 
> :)


	19. Sprinkles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my week went the exact opposite way I'd planned, and maybe this super-moon lunar eclipse will make all my coworkers stop calling out so I can focus my attention on Eric.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, thanks so much for reading and reviewing! You guys make my days a little bit brighter. Usually someone writes something that makes me smile right before I'm debating on if I should just shave off my clients hair because I just worked like nine days in a row.

Ashley is in the first meeting I ever attend as a leader in training.

She is seated one seat away from Max; her blonde hair swept to the side, and her blue button down shirt is hardly buttoned up enough to be appropriate. There's an empty seat between her and Max, and I can only guess who she's left it open for. She stares at me in disbelief as I file in after Eric, her eyes staring me up and down as her mouth drops in surprise. It lasts a fleeting second before she snaps it shut, her eyes hardening.

I stand tall, keeping my head high. Eric and I match, all black down to the new boots I'd worn. The jackets have the Dauntless symbol on the arm, along with a dark maroon stripe running beneath it. Eric had adjusted the collar on mine, and he'd pushed my hair back off my shoulders before we left for the meeting. I was nervous to start the training, mostly because it seemed so much more serious than the initiate training. I'd looked at the training packet again, and the words swarm before my eyes. But now as I slide into the seat next to Jeremy, my nerves seem to quiet down.

Eric takes the seat next to me, and greets Tori with a short hello. He then tilts his head to me, before he grins in my direction.

"Are you ready?"

I nod at him, and take a look at the papers in front of me. There are six pages, and the first four are new ways to utilize security measures that Jeanine would like implemented immediately. The last two are a list of upcoming events and they are broken into categories by faction. Dauntless has no less than sixteen events that they will host, including two that are open to all the factions. I find that interesting. I can't ever remember attending anything outside of Amity.

"Is this a normal thing? That other factions would be willing to attend…" I look down at the paper. "A New Year's Celebration?" I look at him curiously. "What is that?"

He squints his eyes at me. "You've never celebrated New Year's before? It's the end of the calendar year, every December." He pauses, his grey eyes flashing with interest. "The celebration is always open to other factions. This year Dauntless is in charge of the fireworks show."

I don't know what fireworks are, so I simply shrug.

"No. We had a lot of celebrations, but I don't remember celebrating anything for end of the year." I look at him, and his gaze is fixed on me. "Has Amity always been invited?"

He nods, raising one eyebrow. "Every year. All factions are invited."

"Interesting." I find that there's a lot that goes on that I've never known about. I would never have thought that were would be any events that involve all the factions, and I can't think of a good reason why Johanna wouldn't want Amity to take part in them. "Are we going to this celebration? You and I?"

He looks at me for a moment before he smiles, revealing his teeth. "Do you want to go?" He looks amused as he waits for my answer, and I can't help but wonder if this is a trick.

"Yes." I finally tell him, wanting nothing more than to see whatever the fireworks are.

"Good." He answers, his eyes falling to my lips. "It's a rather fun night to celebrate."

"Do you have anything planned to celebrate my first day of training?" I throw out casually. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Ashley watching us intently, her head cocked to the side. I've decided I want to mess with her a bit. I glance around the room and take note that no one else is really listening to us.

I make sure I lean in close to Eric, close enough that my nose could brush his. "I know how much you like celebrating."

He smirks.

"I guess you'll find out."

He's interrupted by Max clearing his throat, and everyone sits up a bit straighter. I glance around the table and take in everyone in attendance. Beside Ashley sits another assistant for Erudite, then the man I recognize as Jack Kang from Candor, another man next to him who looks vaguely familiar, three members of Abnegation, and Jeremy and Tori round out the group from Dauntless. I frown, realizing there is no one here from Amity, but a moment later there is a whirl of gold and red as two members of Amity fly into the room and sit down in the remaining seats. I don't recognize either of them exceptionally well, and Eric catches the look that crosses my face.

"Johanna insisted on sending two randomly chosen members to come to this meeting." He pauses for a moment, his voice dripping with annoyance. "She likes to make sure everyone in the community has a fair opportunity to contribute." I knew this. The community would sometimes vote on who they wanted to send to meetings, or who would be the chosen one to speak when we had visitors. Johanna simply did it herself if no one else wanted to.

Eric's lips graze my ear. "Had you chosen to stay in Amity, I might have met you in this very meeting rather than during initiation." I feel myself turn red, trying to imagine showing up in one of these meetings. I'd probably have found Eric cold and unlikeable, and trotted back to Amity trying to forget his menacing stare. Yet here I sit beside him, in a matching Dauntless uniform, married to him.

Everyone finally quiets down, and Max stands with his hands behind his back. He quickly greets everybody before he pauses and announces the addition of the newest leaders. There is a low murmur of hello to Jeremy, and they stop when Max's stare falls to me.

"We'd also like to welcome our newest leader in training, Eric's wife, Everly." The room is quiet for a second, and the two heads from Amity snap in my direction, their eyes are large and curious. Everyone greets me now, their faces staring at me with disbelief. A smug look crosses Eric's face and I resist the urge to kick him beneath the table.

"Thank you all for coming. We've got a few things to go over, and we'll try to make this quick. Those of you from Dauntless are aware we have a meeting after this one, so we'll try to wrap everything up by lunch time."

There's a small shuffle as people shift around, and Max continues on with his agenda. Beside him, Ashley looks extraordinarily unhappy, and it's a look that I feel like she should have more often. She's clenched her mouth shut, her eyes narrowed in my direction, and a nasty grimace on her face.

I try hard not to break into a wide grin.

I can still remember her at the leader's dinner, her foul warning slipping easily from her lips. I can tell she's hardly listening to Max. She's more focused on what I'm doing, and her lips twist even further downwards every time Eric shifts closer to me. His chair is now so close to mine that our shoulders touch. I try to stifle the burst of laughter in my throat when her whole face drops as Eric places his arm along the back of my chair. His fingers graze along my shoulder blades at a lazy pace.

"How long do we have to get this done?" A man from Abnegation speaks up, his loose fitting grey shirt rustling as he shifts in the chair. He doesn't look thrilled at what's being presented, and he looks less pleased at Eric's fingers on my jacket. He's been alternating his stare between Max and me.

"Three weeks." Max tells him. "Jeannine wants everything functioning by the New Year."

Jack nods his head in agreement. "And where is Jeanine?" He leans forwards, placing his chin on the top of his fingers. "Her absence is regrettably noticeable."

Max looks at Ashley, and she doesn't answer. It takes a beat before the girl next to her nudges her, and she snaps her intense gaze away from me.

"She's busy. She's been working on a few things and couldn't step away." Her voice is just as pretty as I remember, but now it has a slight waver to it, as though she hadn't really been prepared to recite her preplanned answer. It's obvious someone's fed her a statement, but she's not quite convincing at relaying it.

Jack seems unimpressed, and beside me Eric shifts with disinterest.

"Curious. She calls for a meeting, then fails to attend." Jack leans back, crossing one leg over the others. Ashley stares at him, her face flushing with annoyance. It's becoming apparent that she's too distracted by the announcement of Eric's marriage to answer any questions during the meeting.

Eric kicks my ankle under the table, while his face remains impassive. Max glares at both Jack and Ashley, apparently already over this meeting.

"Moving forward…

Half an hour later, the meeting concludes and Max dismisses us, but not before giving Tori, Jeremy, Eric, and myself a fifteen minute break. I stand up, grateful to stretch my spine for a moment. After months of intense physical training, sitting down and not moving seems like some form of torture. No wonder Eric keeps a daily workout routine. The pent up energy makes me feel itchy and restless.

I make my way into the hallway, smiling at Jeremy as I walk past him. I can see Ashely hovering near the reception desk, her eyes trained on the door, eagerly waiting for the remaining leaders to walk out.

Her face lights up when Eric makes his way through, and for a fleeting moment, I feel for her. I know the feeling. Somewhere along my training my stomach started to twist up pleasantly when I thought of him. I found myself unexpectedly drawn to him; his persona should have been off putting- he could be cruel and calculated, his movements seemingly planned far in advance, but I'd found myself pulling out a different part of him, one that he apparently revealed for no none.

I knew what Ashley wanted; she wanted him, but more than just that. She wanted what he gave to me- quiet moments with smiles that revealed more than his words. She wanted nights wrapped around him but also curled against him. She wanted him, opened up and whispering at her in the dark, his fingers still on her skin long after he isn't.

I watch as her gaze falls to his ass, and she all but licks her lips.

Or maybe she just wants to fuck him.

He turns back, his gaze flicking around the room until it lands on me, and he marches towards me with intent. I'm always slightly taken back by the sight of him in uniform. He never looks anything less than the intimidating. It takes him mere seconds to reach me, his gaze never so much as straying from me, and he stops in front of me- his hands finding my waist.

"There's a lot we can do in fifteen minutes."

He kisses me roughly, and I take a step back until I'm standing in someone's empty office. He walks me backwards until my back is against the wall, and one of his hands slips underneath my jacket. His fingertips trace my lower back, curling me closer to him.

"Did you know she would be here?" I ask him as his mouth latches onto my neck, and my fingers twist into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He hums against my throat, shaking his head. "Did you normally sleep with her after these meetings?"

He breaks away my throat with a snarl, and his eyes flash to mine. "No."

Eric stands in front of me, towering over me but without any threat to him. Despite his angry tone in his voice, he looks slightly defeated . "We slept together a handful of times. Do you want the details of every single encounter?" He raises his eyebrow in annoyance, and his shoulders seem to creep up towards his jaw.

I shake my head, and tighten my grip around his neck. I rise up on my toes until I can reach his lips, and I yank him towards me. He's caught off guard, and he finds himself jerked forwards. "I was just curious. She was looking at you rather expectantly."

He huffs, and looks away. "She must have missed the part when Max introduced just exactly who you are."

I press my lips to his, softly, until he responds, his nose bumping against mine and his jaw finally relaxing.

I realize I've never kissed him first, or maybe just not like this.

 

 

Four's exit was had been captured by the outside security camera.

I watch as his body disappeared through the gates over and over as the team of leaders re-watched the footage. My training was off to a blazing start, and Four wasn't making it any easier. In fact, had he not slipped through those gates, I could have remained in someone's office, with Eric's hands beneath my shirt and my lungs begging for air. Eric had reluctantly broken away from our kiss, and turned to drag me into the security meeting with him.

Behind Max stood Rylan, his hair pulled up into a sloppy bun, his eyes looking jumpy at Max's irritated stare.

"He doesn't return for twelve hours. It shows him here…" Rylan points a spot on the map on the table. "But nowhere else. It's like he went through the gates and vanished. Patrols seven and eight both saw him coming back in, but didn't stop him." He pauses, his eyes turning to Max. "Paul asked him a few hours later where he'd been. He told them he'd gone to check the generators. We've had a few outages in the outmost sections lately, so his excuse isn't that far-fetched."

Max's eye twitches.

"Let me guess." He starts slowly. "There's no report of anyone actually checking the generators, now is there?"

Rylan shakes his head, and Max looks annoyed. "There's not even maintenance scheduled for them because we sent the team to Candor. They've lost power three times since the last snow storm."

I stand beside Eric and I squint at the map. I've never quite seem just how the factions were laid out, and I'm surprised to find Dauntless is between Erudite and Candor. Amity is somewhat across from Dauntless, looking to be a good distance away. Abnegation is the smallest portion, nestled north of Erudite. The map also shows a maze of train tracks, old streets, and absolutely nothing past the fence.

"Did anyone think to question Four any further, or did we all just assume he needed some fresh air?" Max's words are a snap, and I watch as everyone in the room cringes except for Eric. He smiles a bit, his lips curling up in delight.

"I don't think anyone's questioned him, sir." Rylan tries to avoid eye contact, but he finds my curious stare instead. Next to him, Tori frowns. She's got long black hair and pretty, sharp features. Her ear is pierced almost the entire way along its ridge. She has the same annoyed look as she did during the previous meeting.

"Has anyone seen him today?" Tori asks. The others in the room shake their heads.

"I can go find him." Jeremy volunteers from somewhere on the other side of the room, and I had no idea he was even in here. His uniform is different than mine. His jacket is a dark grey, and is much less formal than the one Eric handed me. Eric shifts beside me, his stare apathetic when it lands on the young trainee.

"Let's leave him alone for now. We'll see if he does it again. It's not like none of the leaders can't be alerted if tries it again." Eric's voice is unimpressed, almost downright bored. I would have thought the promise of hunting down Four would have excited him, but I'm surprised to find otherwise. Jeremey's head drops in response, and he looks slightly disappointed. I wonder if he liked the idea of going to find Tris' ex-boyfriend and dragging him back here.

"True." Jeremy mutters. He reluctantly nods in agreement. "But how can you be so sure he'll leave again?"

Eric smiles, the same lethal one that he flashed to me the day I met him. "Because I know where he's going."

 

 

"How does Eric know where he's going?" Christina is adding heaping spoonful's of sprinkles to her ice cream, until the bowl is mostly tiny sugary rainbow bursts. "Why didn't he just tell everyone?"

I reach of the sprinkles after her, hoping she's left some for me to use. Dauntless had added a dessert bar to the mess hall, and we'd chosen to skip lunch and focus on the ice cream and the multitude of toppings.

After the security meeting, I'd sat in on a communications meeting, and nearly died of boredom while some lady spoke for an hour on the benefits of the new software technology Erudite was hoping Dauntless would decide to use. It ended with little fanfare. Max had nodded off and it wasn't until Tori had kicked him under the table did he realize the meeting was over. Eric had left with Max, and dismissed me in the most obnoxious way possible.

He waited until I was right in front of him before he'd yanked me close, kissed me soundly for a moment too long, and then gleefully told me he'd see me after lunch.

Normally I would have been thrilled at his display of affection, after all- the room was still mostly full and the lady from Erudite was watching us closely. But his shit eating grin told me that he planned to discuss something about me with Max, and that he'd prefer I not be there.

"Tell Christina I said hello." He waved me off, his face in some sort of semblance of a cheery smile. His fake politeness didn't fool me. I scowled at his grin, and stomped out of the meeting room all the way until I'd found Tris and Christina staring at the long line to the dessert bar. I filled them in quickly, realizing it'd been far too long since I'd seen them.

"He won't tell them because he wants to catch Four in the act. He thinks it'll be even better that way. He wants to catch him red-handed." I explain. I keep one on Tris, trying to catch her reaction. But she looks like her mind is miles away. "You ok, Tris? Are you worried about Four?"

She looks up at me, her gaze startled. "Oh, no. I'm not. I'm sure he's doing something stupid. Something he's been told not to do." She chews her lip for a minute. "It'll be easy to catch him again, because he doesn't listen very well."

I add more sprinkles. "What will Max do to him?"

She shrugs, reaching for the slices of bananas someone has set out. I watch her neatly arrange them around the bowl. "I don't know." She tells me. "Maybe move him to a different position. Revoke some of his authority. Make him turn in his keycards." She adds a few sprinkles of granola, and squints at her ice cream before looking at me. "Can I ask you something?"

I nod at her. Christina is already far ahead of us, searching for a table.

Tris grimaces and my stomach sinks, afraid she's going to tell me something terrible. I like Tris. She's been nothing but honest with me. Christina is truthful, but she has a terrible habit of letting her enthusiasm over ride her honesty. Anything Eric related was usually met with a shriek of excitement or a squeal of delight. She was the kind of person who was perfect to confess your secret crush to; she'd happily join you along for the emotional roller coaster. Stalking someone at one am? Christina would be the first person to suggest you wear a dark color and sunglasses just in case someone saw you. Tris was the one who would logically point out that there were easier ways of obtaining information.

She bites her lip now, and takes a step closer to me, her head next to mine.

"Jeremy told me he's in love with me."

My eyes widen, and I stare at her miserable expression. "I couldn't say it back. I couldn't say anything back." I wait for her to continue. "It's been a month, Everly. I've only been dating him for a month. And it's not even really official. It just started with dinner and we've kept seeing each other and…" She trails off, making sure no one is listening. "You and Eric fell in love fast. Do you think it's possible for Jeremy and I? I mean, I don't know if I feel quite that strongly for him."

She stops and stares at me with utter trust in her gaze. I swallow, trying to keep my bowl of ice cream steady.

"I…uh…we…"

She smiles at me and ducks her head slightly. "I know, I know. Eric's really private. Most of Dauntless is in this huge debate over whether or not he's even really married to you."

My stomach knots unpleasantly.

"Do you…did you love Eric after a month of knowing him?"

I try to think back to what I was doing after I had known Eric for a month. I don't think I was in love with him by any means, but I definitely didn't dislike him. I'd had a level of respect for him, but the line had blurred even early on. The first time he'd let his hands linger on mine while showing me how to punch against the bag should have been my first sign. I hadn't even thought to question him or his motives.

"I um…no not after a month. I mean, our relationship is really complicated. I don't know if anyone should go off our milestones." I focus on my ice cream, and try to ignore the nagging feeling in my mind. My brain is working quickly, much too quickly for my liking. It's prompting all kind of new questions that I don't want to think about right now.

Tris nods at me, her gaze serious. "I know. I guess I just don't know what to do." She searches for Christina, and we find her waving from across the hall. "I just needed to tell someone. It's been bothering me for a few days. Christina tends to get a little excited about things. So I didn't really want to bring it up in front of her..."

I smile at her, hoping to convey my understanding.

"I wish I knew what to tell you." I tell her. We make our way to the table, and I slide in next to Christina. She'd already eaten half her ice cream, and she's watching us with a curious expression.

"Why do the both of you look so serious right now?" She asks, shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

"Well for starters there were no more sprinkles left." I tell her, trying to sound outraged. She laughs loudly, and Tris smiles widely at me from across the table, relief flashing across her face.

 

 

The rest of my week of training is a blur.

In the mornings Eric shows me more spreadsheets and e-mails than I could ever have thought possible. I divide my time between sitting with him and trying to keep track of what he's doing, and spending the other half of my day in the control room. The afternoon shift is quiet for the most part. I watch people come and go, small black figures weaving in and out of hallways that I can't quite place.

"Click on the icon that says Refresh."

The afternoon supervisor is a woman named Kacie, and she seemed irritated by my very presence. "Normally the trainees shadow the overnight crew." She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, her white blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. "But I guess Eric wants you on this shift, so I get to train you." She clicks on a few icons that flash, and the screen changes to an area I've never seen before.

"What's going on there?" I ask her, pointing to the small group that's appeared on the screen. They look like they are factionless; dirty hair and ragged clothing. Kacie frowns, and narrows her eyes before typing a few commands into a bar at the bottom of the screen.

"There's a small group forming. Possible riot. Section Nine."

She types with practiced ease, and she turns to me for a moment. "We'll dispatch a group to go check it out." She selects Unit Three from a drop down menu, and clicks send. No less than a minute later, a group of Dauntless guards appear, weapons in hand.

"Their response time is perfect. This should be handled easily. Make a note of this right there." She points to the screen, and I try to mimic her easy typing.

By the time I leave the control room, my eyes hurt and I realize I haven't seen Four all week.

 

 

The second week passes even faster.

I find myself surprisingly good at most of what I'm given to work on. I can type almost as quickly as the other leaders, and I'm able to remember most of my log in information. I've got Eric's memorized as well, and sometimes I like to log in as him just to see what it feels like to have ultimate access to everything in Dauntless.

It's less exhilarating than one would have imagined.

 

 

Eric shoves my shoulder.

"Are you really going to sleep right now?" His voice has a peculiar sound to it, almost a hint of a whine. I open my eyes blearily, sitting upright in bed. I've fallen asleep after dinner every night this week. In addition to the Leader's Training, I've also had to keep up with his workout routine. It catches up to me by Friday. I could barely keep my eyes open during dinner, and Eric had been worked up over the fact that someone dare question an e-mail he sent out about the proper ways of disposing of hazardous materials. I didn't even want to know what sort of hazardous materials members of Dauntless possessed.

"What time is it?" I ask him, rubbing my eyes.

Eric stares at me, his eyes dark.

"Eight thirty." He's half scowling; obviously unimpressed with my ability to stay awake. I can't help but feel like I'm starting all over. I have half a mind to dig out the pink dress and wear it on our next day off. "Are you really that tired? You've fallen asleep early every night this week." His words are flat, and I stare at him, wondering just why he's so bothered.

"Oh, do you miss me, Eric?" I try to mimic the tone from when he mocked me for mentioning he wasn't at one of our lunches. It feels so long ago that I sat on his couch, his arm heavy around my shoulders as he trailed his fingers over my neck. He must remember well, because he glares at me something fierce.

"Funny." He mutters. He reaches behind me, and I feel his fingers tug the pony tail out of my hair. "I guess you should go back to sleep." I watch him sulk, and I can't help the yawn that escapes my mouth. The put out expression on his face would be amusing if I wasn't so tired.

"Lay down with me." I look up at him, and he narrows his eyes.

"I'm not exactly in the mood to sleep." He informs me, his tone bordering on exasperation. Something buzzes in the back of my mind, and I realize it's been almost two weeks since I've given poor Eric anything more than a goodnight kiss. I can't help that I can barely keep my eyes open during dinner, let alone muster up the energy to seduce him.

"You could still lay down for a minute." I tell him. He shrugs and finally gives in, lying down beside me as though I have asked him to do something totally abysmal. I find his chest, resting my head on it.

"Is this a record for you? Two weeks?" I mumble my words against him, and he stiffens.

"Hardly." He snaps.

"Just admit that you miss me." I sleepily curl tighter against him, my eyes closing. He's warm and solid against my cheek, and I can't imagine falling asleep anywhere but where I am.

Eric merely grunts in response, and I open one eye at him for a moment.

"I think you could admit that." I tell him. I want him to tell me more. Thoughts of my conversation with Tris run through my head, but I shove them aside. He's obviously in no mood to ask him anything tonight.

"Fine." He finally answers, and his voice sounds as though I've asked him to tell me his darkest secrets. Maybe this is one of them. "I don't like it when you aren't awake."

I try to glare with my eyes closed, but I'm not sure how well it works.

"That's not what I said." I mumble at him.

He exhales through his nose, his fingers smoothing my hair down. "Close enough."

I can't argue with him, because I simply fall back asleep.

 

 

On Saturday morning, Eric's teeth sink into the inside of my thigh.

They will leave a mark, but it'll just match the ones that dot my neck and collar bone.

"Stop squirming." His words are a murmur, his nose against my skin. If I glance down I can make out the wave of his hair neatly combed to the side, his head resting between my thighs. He bites again before he looks up at me and smirks. I try to hold still as best I can, but his stubble is scraping against me and he's moving with deliberate slowness that is maddening. He raises an eyebrow and I still, my head dropping back against the pillow that smells like him.

He has a firm grip on my hipbone, and his fingers tighten with intent.

"Good girl."

 

 

I find Christina at a long table, sitting next to Tris and a dark haired girl who introduces herself as Molly. She smiles slightly at me as I sit down, and then does a double take when I tell her my name.

"Wait, aren't you Eric's wife?" Her eyes are wide set, and a pretty brown. I nod at her, and she squints at me as if she's thinking about something very hard. "I think I just filed your chart away in the office."

"My chart?" I ask her, taking a bite of an apple.

"Yeah, your health and wellness chart. I work in the infirmary as an intake nurse. Sometimes I help Arlene with the over flow. This morning was really slow, and I helped her catch up on her work. I'm pretty sure I saw your chart because not many people have the same last name as Eric." She pauses to take a bite of her salad. "I was asking Arlene about your birth control shot."

I stab at the lettuce on my plate. "Why?" I can't wait to hear this. I wouldn't be utterly surprised to find that there really wasn't one.

"I asked her if she wanted me to send out a reminder e-mail to you. We have a new program that automatically sends out reminders for upcoming appointments." She stares at me, her eyes looking to the side for a moment. "She said no. She said you and Eric were thinking about having a baby."

My stomach drops, and I set my fork down. "Um, we haven't exactly…"

Molly interrupts me. "It's so not my business. She just said Eric had mentioned he was looking forward to starting a family sometime soon." She holds her palm up at me in surrender.

I stare at her, not really knowing what to say. The situation is comical; Eric Coulter- the least friendly and most walled up man in Dauntless has decided we should have a child together when he has a hard time admitting that he might feel something more than annoyance towards me.

I narrow my eyes are her. "That's Eric for you. Always such a prince." I tell her through gritted teeth. Annoyance flashes through me, and I know there's no way I can sit here and pretend Eric hasn't just decided we should have a baby. "Speaking of Eric, I should probably go make sure my darling husband has had his lunch."

Tris and Christina watch me with twin horrified expressions. Molly doesn't notice.

"So you are really married to him." She exclaims, her eyes lighting up at the confirmation.

"Not for too much longer." I snap, only half joking.

"Everly!" Tris' voice calls after me, but my lunch with them is long forgotten. I'm so mad I can't even see straight. The idea of having a baby with Eric is ridiculous. We've come far in our relationship, but there's so much that is unknown that I can't even begin to fathom bringing a child into it. Not to mention the fact that I'm sure Jeaninne would take great interest in any offspring of Eric's.

I storm towards his office, madder than the time I'd found out that I was married to him. It takes me a little bit, and I inwardly curse Dauntless for being so sprawled out. I stomp towards his door, racking my brain to remember what he was doing today. I'd told him I was meeting the girls for lunch, and he'd barely blinked. He'd offhandedly thrown out that he was working through his lunch, so I don't bother knocking as I yank the door open.

"Were you going to tell me you'd decided that we should have a baby?" I nearly yell the words as I make my way through the door. I catch sight of him behind his desk, and his expression is something similar to outright mortification. I almost trip at the sight of it. He looks like a deer caught in headlights; his grey eyes are the widest I've seen them, and his jaw drops slightly while his eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

The look last mere seconds; he composes himself quickly, his face steeling back to normal before I realize he's not alone.

There are three men in all black seated in front of him. They turn their heads to me, and I register their looks of utter amusement and utter confusion.

"Hello, Everly." Jack's slick voice breaks the tension, and I watch Eric rise from his desk slowly, his frame tense enough to snap.

"Everyone this is my wife, Everly." Eric grits the words out through his teeth, and his stare fixes on me. "If you'll excuse us for a moment." He strides out from behind his desk, and he reaches me quickly. He takes my elbow, his fingers curling around my arm, and he all but shoves me through the office door.

"I…uh…so I was just going." I tell him, panic surging through me. I am trying to look anywhere but at him, and I try to pretend that I didn't just storm into his office and interrupt his meeting by yelling about his reproductive decisions.

"Everly." Eric says my name in this low tone, and his eyes flicker with what looks like delight. "Don't you think if I wanted to have a baby I would have mentioned that to you?" His lips curl upwards, and I try to ignore how much I want to press my own against his. I tell myself to focus. I came here to call him out on his lack of communication, not to make out with him.

"No." I tell him, crossing my arms in front my chest.

"No?" He raises one eyebrow, and grins.

"You failed to mention that we were married." I point out. Eric grins, and I can tell he's still pleased he pulled that off. He shifts slightly, widening his stance.

"I told you." He shrugs.

"That's right." I tell him, my eyes finding his. "You told me, you didn't ask me."

Eric rolls his eyes. "Fine. Everly, will you marry me?" He says the words in this dramatically dry voice.

I put my hands on my hips. "Stop changing the subject."

Eric grins again, and this time he eyes are dark. "We'll discuss this later. I've got to finish this meeting before Max returns." He cocks his head at me, and I bite my lip feeling unfinished.

"Eric, but Arlene told Molly…" I trail off. It sounds stupid when I'm repeating it, like I'm some small child tattling on someone. Eric shakes his head, his gaze somewhere behind me now.

"I wouldn't get you pregnant without you knowing what I was doing. I hope you don't think that I would." He shrugs, and for the second time since I've known him, he seems a bit uneasy. "I've never even thought about having children, so don't worry."

I nod at him, and I can't help but catch the small look of frustration that flashes in his eyes.

He kisses my cheek roughly, and lets me go before he heads back to his office, his shoulders slumping.


	20. The Talk and The Confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! I wanted to post this sooner than later since the last chapter ended in an awkward spot. While this doesn't clear up everything by a long shot, it starts us on a whole other path.
> 
> :)

Arlene stops me in the hallway on a Wednesday, and for the first time since I've met her, she looks subdued.

"Everly, do you have a moment?" She asks me quietly.

I shake my head. Max is expecting me in no less than ten minutes, and I'm only halfway to his office. Today is the day that we are going over our shadowing choices, and he's called both Jeremy and I to make our decisions today.

"I'm on my way to see Max." I clutch the papers to my chest, preparing for her latest brilliant words of advice. I can hardly wait. Perhaps she'll suggest Eric and I try for triplets, or that she's made me a chart to keep track of our baby making attempts.

"Alright." She tells me, and she purses her lips. "I just wanted to apologize for overstepping my boundaries at your last appointment. I often forget that not everyone here is used to my bluntness, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable. If you and Eric chose to start a family, I'll offer nothing but my services and support. And if you don't, then I'll still offer the same."

She stares at me over her glasses, and I look back at her in surprise. I have no idea what to say.

"Oh, well thank you." I shift awkwardly, wondering if Eric stormed down to yell at her.

"You do know that if you wanted to have a baby with him, he'd be all for it." She throws it out casually, and I'm sure my eyes widen. " Whether he admits it or not."

"Did he tell you that?" I ask her.

She shakes her head very slightly and peers at me over her glasses. "More or less."

I sigh at her. "I don't think either of us are ready to have a baby, Arlene."

I watch as her face falls slightly, and I suddenly realize she looks honestly disappointed.

 

 

The shampoo drips into my eye, and it burns like a motherfucker.

"Eric! It's in my eyes!" I yelp, trying to furiously wipe it away. It's useless, my position is nowhere under the spray of the water, and I only succeed rubbing the shampoo in further.

Behind me, Eric lets out a low laugh and jerks me back until the water sprays into my face. I sputter for a second, trying not to drown while standing up. This would be an interesting way to go, naked and wet in Eric's shower. While he smirks from behind me.

Having sex in his shower had been my idea.

Tris had this book in her apartment, and it was all about romance and sexual chemistry and things that drew couples closer together. She'd been attempting to find a way to connect with Jeremy other than to tell him she loved him. I didn't blame her; I knew she was happy with him, but being in love with him was a whole other story.

I'd flipped through the book while she finished up a report from the past week. They'd been short staffed, and Four had mysteriously been in and out of the control room, speaking to no one unless it was absolutely necessary. I knew Tris was worried about him. She'd bit at her nails while she told me that he was avoiding her at all costs. He hadn't left the compound again, and but it was only a matter of time. Even the two of them just being friends seemed stressful. I'd asked her if she bought this book when she and Four were together, and she looked embarrassed.

"I did." Her cheeks looked pink even against the white glow from her laptop. "Four was very reluctant to be physical with me. It's part of the reason we didn't quite work out." She shrugs, tapping away at her keyboard. "Can't say I didn't try."

I flip through the pages, skimming past the parts about open communication until I find the section about intimacy. It's split up into two sections - Emotional and Physical Intimacy. It's not that Eric isn't willing to be intimate with me. Quite the opposite. He'd happily slide into bed with me without a seconds notice. And it's not that he's not somewhat emotional during our nights together. I've picked up on the way his eyes linger on mine while he holds me close, and the way he's the last one to break contact, his fingers seemingly antsy unless they are on me.

I'm looking for something else, something more. I quickly flip through the next few pages. There's a whole section about sexual intimacy, and how to connect on a nonverbal level.

Bingo.

I scan through the pages, and I try to stop myself from blushing at the diagrams and descriptions below them. There are some that look impossible, and some that look a little bit too complicated for my liking. My eyes fall on the final picture of a couple, drawn so they are staring dreamily at each other in the shower. The description leads on that couples often find the shower to be a unique and comforting place to open up to each other. The book states that the water and steam are fantastic ways to separate yourselves from the outside world.

I'd decided to try it out the next morning.

Eric was already in the shower by the time I woke up, but this was nothing new. I didn't know how much time I had, so I quickly hopped out of his bed and stripped out of my underwear. I kicked them aside as I made my way through his bathroom, and stepped in through the cloud of steam. I opened the door as quietly as possible and stepped in.

I've never had so much appreciation for the male figure than right at this moment. I stand for a second, watching him rinse his hair, his back to me. He wipes his eyes for a moment, before he turns around, his eyes narrowing at my presence.

"Hi Everly." His voice is smooth and slick and I can't help but take a step closer to him.

"Hi Eric." I take a step towards him, and reach my arms out and around his neck. He follows suit easily, and I kiss him as though my life depends on it. For a moment, everything is blindingly perfect. His naked and wet skin is pressed against mine, the warm water is rushing around us and the steam seems to trap us in our own world. He kisses me feverishly, his lips demanding against my own as he shoves my hair out of the way.

"I'll help you wash your hair." He broke out kiss apart, taking a step back and producing the first bottle he could grab without looking. Neither of us bothered to check if it was actually shampoo, and seconds later I was facing the wall while he washed my hair. His fingers raked against my scalp, and he trailed them down my neck, grazing down my shoulders, until he reached my hips.

"Ohh." He nudges my legs apart, and the next thing I know, he's buried deep inside me, his hips slamming into mine in a delightful way. My head falls forward, and I arch against him. The next thing I know, there's soap in my eye.

"Fuck." I swear, blinking furiously before I go blind.

"I was trying." Eric mutters, and his face tells me he's trying hard not to laugh. "Here." He helps me rinse the rest of the soap out of my hair before he kisses me again. "Still think I prefer you in my bed."

Fifteen minutes later I'm happily on top of him, his grey eyes flashing up at me with delight and I vow to never have sex anywhere but in this bed again.

 

 

"Is Eric good in bed?" Kacie asks me with a straight face.

I tear my gaze away from the screen. I've been watching the Amity cameras for the past half hour, and while nothing thrilling has happened, there's something brewing in one of the corners. One of the farm hands keeps popping up every few seconds, peering into the edge of this large water reservoir.

"What?" I turn my head to her and stare, wondering if she's serious. She's made it very well known that she doesn't particularly enjoy that she's stuck with me for several shifts, and now she wants to talk about Eric as though she and I are longtime friends. "Are you seriously asking me about our sex life?" I let the annoyance bleed out through my voice. Funny how everyone in Dauntless seems to be overly fascinated by what Eric and I are doing.

She has the decency to look embarrassed, but she shrugs her shoulders as if she's playing it off. "He just always seems so…in control. I was wondering if it carried over into the bedroom."

I narrow my eyes in response, and turn my attention back to the screen. The man is back, and this time, he wades fully into the water until it reaches his waist. "What is he doing?" I point to him, and Kacie turns her head.

"Good question." Together we watch the man flounder for a moment, finding the bank to be much steeper than he'd originally thought, before he pulls on the metal grate at the opening. It doesn't budge, and he tries it a few more times before he gives up. He steps out of the water, soaking wet and shivering, before he vanishes out of the camera's range.

"Make a note of that." Kacie tells me, and her stare turns back to me. "11:15 am."

I make the notation, and log myself off the computer. "I've gotta meet Eric at 11:30." I stand up, and Kacie nods at me, her eyes back on the screen.

"You didn't answer my question." She tells me, without bothering to look at me.

I don't answer, because really, it's no one business but mine and Eric's.

 

 

Eric grits his teeth as I take the seat next to him.

"Max and myself." He tells me, his tone cold and tight.

"What?" I look at him curiously. I have no idea what he's talking about. He looks annoyed, his eyebrows furrowed together. It's barely nine am, and I have no idea who could have pissed him off so early.

"That's who you selected to shadow."

I shake my head. "I picked Max and Jeremy picked you." Max's expression had been priceless when Jeremy had announced Eric's name. His intention of having me branch out wouldn't quite work if I'd been reassigned to work under Eric again. I would have thought Eric would have been downright smug when he'd heard the news.

"Why Max?" Eric's tone implies he would have picked someone else, and I shrug.

"Why not?"

Max had seemed like a very smart, very safe choice. He rarely was out of his office unless something absolutely demanded his attention. He was the oldest of the leaders, and I assumed the most knowledgeable. He had the authority to override Eric; something that I found amusing. I figured he'd also be a good choice to learn the ins and outs of Dauntless.

I had cringed when Jeremy clearly and happily announced Eric's name.

He looked thrilled, and I understood why. This was his chance to prove something to Eric, something that everyone wanted to do. I can remember wanting to prove my own worth to him. But I didn't want Max to think I was looking for an easy way through this training. Training under Eric for a portion that I was specifically instructed to have a different Leader was not about to win me any points.

Max had been pleased when I said his name, and ticked when Jeremy said Eric's. I watched him press his lips into a fine line. He then assigned us a training schedule, and informed us when we would meet him. I'd still train with Eric, also with Kacie, and at some point towards the end of January, I'd train with Four. If he was still in the position.

But now, it's not Max's name that Eric's staring at. It's not even Four's name, with the words- Initiate Training Program 1 bolded beside it.

It's the word Amity, clearly written as item one under the first article on the agenda. Both Jeremy and I are to head to Amity with him, and there was a meeting with Johanna scheduled for noon. Eric looks downright furious now.

"I can't exactly opt out of that meeting, Eric." I point out to him. He's scowling now, his face dark.

"You could tell him you don't want to go." He suggests, but it comes out as more of a command. I shake my head at him, my heart in my throat. I honestly can see no problem going to Amity. If Eric believes in me enough to be a leader here, then he should be able to handle me visiting my former faction for half a day.

"But I do want to go." I tell him and to my surprise Eric's face falls. He leans back in his chair, far enough that I fear it might tip backwards under his weight.

"It has nothing to do with you." I add. "It's just a meeting with Johanna. I'll be back before sundown and we'll have dinner together and everything will be right with the world."

He narrows his eyes, and I can tell he's displeased.

"Right." He finally answers, and his tone is a cold snap that I haven't heard in a long time.

"Are you going to be mad every time I want to do something that you don't agree with?" The tone of his voice has struck a nerve with me. He obviously thinks highly enough of me- he's took on my training himself, signed me up for his own leadership program, and topped it off by marrying me. But his desire to keep me away from everyone but him, out of whatever reason he's still set on, is starting to grate on my last fried nerve.

Eric looks shocked at my question. His eyes flare, and he visibly stiffens.

"Do you think I'm cut out to be a leader here?" I ask him. I can see him chewing the inside of his jaw, and he looks desperate to blurt something out. But he remains silent.

"You signed me up for this, so I'm assuming you think I can do it."

He finally nods, his stare boring directly into my eyes. "Obviously."

"Then stop acting like I can't walk down the hallways without you." I say the words as sweetly possible, and I swear he looks as though I've suggested he go fuck himself.

He crosses his arms. I wonder if the inside of his cheek is raw, because he's still got his mouth clenched shut.

"Amity isn't exactly down the hallway." He finally points out, his voice even and controlled. "I'm just worried…" He stops midsentence, and drops his gaze from my eyes.

A flare of triumph rushes through me, more alluring that the lust that often burns through my veins.

I don't push him to explain any further. I simply smile at him and reach over, lacing my fingers through his.

 

 

He gives me the third book on a Thursday.

I'm perched atop his lap while he sits on the couch. We've been staring at his tablet for the last half an hour, watching the same man from Amity try time and time again to open up the water grate.

His nose is in my hair, and he somehow slides the book into my lap without looking.

"I found this one for you."

His words are a thinly veiled sort of apology. I have a feeling if I turn around his eyes are closed and his jaw is tight. So I lean back into him, adjusting myself until his chin rests on my shoulder. I open the book and turn to the first page of the first chapter.

"Chapter One." I read aloud. "The day in which Eric Coulter learned it's ok to tell people you're worried about them."

He snorts against my hair.

"You have no idea." He mutters.

 

 

Friday ends with absolutely nothing and everything happening.

I end my final shift in the control room with little fanfare. Kacie clocks me out at eight thirty pm, and gives me a once over.

"It's been nice having you here." She tells me, her voice brimming with a hint of irritation. She seems almost reluctant to sign the bottom of my paper that details what we've gone over. "I'm sure we'll see you around here again." She finally drops her eyes to the paper and scrawls her name with a yawn. This is the one and only night shift we've both worked, and I can tell she's not used to the later hour.

"Thank you." I tell her, happy to be done with this part of the training. While not too challenging, sitting beside Kacie for hours on end while she tried to slyly grill me about my relationship with Eric was starting to get old fast.

I slip out of the room as fast as I can and head home.

I've decided that tonight is the night I will get some answers from Eric. There are numerous thoughts running through my mind and I know they won't stop until he clues me in on a few things. He's been very quiet lately, and a quiet Eric is a somewhat dangerous Eric. It usually means he's thinking about something, intensely processing and analyzing whatever has taken precedence in his mind.

I can't decide if it's the whole baby situation, or the fact that I've stood my ground with him.

I've found that I rather like being with Eric. There's something charismatic about him, something dreamy and dangerous and it's everything I wanted the minute I decided I was leaving Amity. But I don't need him to decide my every move, and I don't want him thinking I'm not strong enough to do anything by myself. If I was brave enough to leave Amity and come here as the lone transfer, then I'm brave enough to fulfill my duties as a member of Dauntless.

So I make my way through the apartment, and I find Eric in bed and engrossed in his tablet. He barely looks up as I make my way to the bathroom, stopping only to grab pajamas. I quickly shrug off my sweater and leggings. I throw on a nightgown I'd bought a few weeks ago. It's white and flimsily soft; probably way too sweet for Eric's liking, but I need him to have his defenses down. I pull my hair out of the bun it's been in, knowing full well he'll just yank it out anyway, and make my way towards the bed.

I set my eyes on Eric, and he's scrolling away, squinting in annoyance at something on the screen. He doesn't look up until I'm on my knees next to him, and he looks well rested since we've been going to bed rather early lately.

"How was your final shift with Kacie?" He asks, his voice almost businesslike.

I take in his posture. Spine straight, eyes set on me, jaw slightly askew. This will be a challenge, but I'm not about to back down.

"Fine. But I need to talk to you." I tell him, and I scoot closer, giving him little room to get away. He nods, but his eyes are guarded.

"Alright." He straightens himself up impossibly further, and sets the tablet on the nightstand. He looks at me expectantly. I take my chance and climb onto his lap, straddling him and his eyes darken. I know that look will fade the minute I open my mouth.

"Tell me what your favorite color is?" I decide to start small. If I jump right into the larger questions, he'll shut down immediately. So I pick something trivial. Eric looks confused at my question, his brows furrowing together. I can almost see his mind whirling, but a minute later he decides to play along.

"Black." He answers offhandedly.

"What's your middle name?"

"I don't have one." He stares right into my eyes, his slate eyes patient now.

"What's your favorite food?"

His lips quirk up. "I don't discriminate amongst my meals."

I try not to smile. "Are you Dauntless born?"

He looks surprised at this question, but I've never asked him. I've heard he was a transfer, but I'd never thought much of it. "Erudite."

"Are your parents still there?" He looks downwards at the mention of his parents, and he sighs heavily before he nods.

"Did you get Dauntless as your test result?"

Eric shake his head no, and his stare falls to my bare shoulders. One of his fingers reaches up, touching the thin fabric. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, and I try not to stare at his mouth.

"Why don't you want me to go to Amity?" His eyes flash up for a moment, and he frowns.

"We already went over this."

I purse my lips. "You said you were worried, but why? There's no danger in Amity."

He shakes his head again. "There's danger everywhere." He traces my collarbone inwards and then back out. I try to keep my breathing even, ignoring the feeling of his fingers on my skin. He's not intentionally trying to distract me, or maybe he is.

"Did Ashley want to have a relationship with you?"

He glares at me, his grey eyes unimpressed with this question. "Yes."

"And you didn't?" I reach out for him, my fingers touching the bottom of his shirt. The fabric is worn and soft, and I'm pretty sure I've slept in this exact shirt.

"No."

"What's the longest you've been in a relationship?"

He tenses beneath me, and snarls. "Pass."

"Just answer the question." I protest. He shakes his head, and pushes the strap down my shoulder. Despite the fact that he's moved a mere inch of fabric, I feel rather exposed under his stare. His thumb arcs around the skin, and I try not to shiver. I can tell he notices by the way he smirks.

"Tell me."

He shakes his head, his gaze somewhere to the side of me. I hesitate at his refusal to answer my last question, shifting against him. He returns his stare to me, and tilts his head to the side, elongating his neck.

"What's your favorite color, Everly?" His words are drawn out, my name a pleasant drawl on his lips. I smile widely at him.

"Pink."

He smirks again before he stares right at me.

"Were you in love with Landon?" I wonder how long he's been thinking about this question.

I shake my head before I answer him. "No."

Truth be told, I wasn't. Landon had been a means to an end in Amity. He was a sweet way to pass time, and someone that at the age of fifteen I had found myself utterly fascinated with. Three years later, the infatuation had worn off, not just with him, but with my entire life in general. It pales in comparison to what I feel for Eric.

"Why didn't you stay in Amity?" His eyes are fixed on my skin, and his fingers gently trace a pattern on my bare shoulder. "Weren't you happy there?"

I shake my head. "I wanted something more. Something more adventurous than taking care of crops and planting flowers."

Eric almost laughs. He grins widely, revealing straight white teeth. "Well you certainly found adventure here." I know he's referring to our night out in the open together, and I mock glare at him.

"Do you hate Amity?" I ask him. He frowns, and I wait for him to announce that it's not my turn. Instead he shakes his head and looks down at my hands on his shirt.

"The faction as a whole or the people in it?"

I think for a second. "Both."

"I don't hate either. Amity serves its own purpose. And it does produce some worthwhile people." He moves his hand down my side until it rests on my hipbone. "You wouldn't be Everly if you had grown up in another faction." He's not looking at me, but I nod at him.

"Do you miss your parents?" I ask him.

He shakes his head without looking at me. "Do you miss yours?"

I nod, biting at my lip. I do miss them, even if they never bothered to come visit me. "Sometimes I think of them. And I wish I could see them. But I don't want to live there. Or they way they live. I'm happy here."

Eric stares at me, and I stare back at him.

The underlying weight of my words is immense. Officially, Eric is the only family I have in Dauntless. While I have Christina and Tris as friends, without the two of them and Eric, I have no one. I don't know if Eric understands the implication of this, or maybe he does. Maybe that's why he's gone about our relationship the way he has. He doesn't seem to have any family here, and he certainly keeps to a very small social circle.

He swallows and nods slowly. "I'm glad you're happy." His voice sounds odd, disconnected from him and I realize he's very uncomfortable. It seems to seep from his skin, and he holds himself together tightly.

"Are you happy?" I ask him, and he narrows his eyes at me. I expect him to shut down, to clench his jaw and shove me off his lap and end my inquisition. Instead he stares right into my eyes, the icy grey of his bleeding outwards.

"I am."

I feel as though the wind has been knocked out of me, and I try to steady my breathing.

"You're happy being with me?" My words come out sounding less sure than I'd like, but they'll do. The intensity of his stare is unnerving, and the tension surrounds us with surprising force. I watch him take a deep breath.

"Yes."

It's no grand declaration of love, but it's something.

He pauses, his grip tightening on my hip. "And you?" He doesn't say the words with me, but the implication is there.

I take my hands off his shirt and loop them around his neck until he's closer to me. He cocks his head to the side, and from this angle he is dangerously handsome. His hair has been cut short again, and the sides are velvety soft. My fingers slip through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and his eyes close at the touch.

"I am. I just want you to trust me that I can make some of my own decisions." I tell him, very softly. There's not an ounce of threat to my words, no trace of attitude, or anger. I watch Eric carefully for a reaction, and he blinks his eyes back open.

The room is silent, so silent I swear I can hear him thinking.

He finally sighs and nods his head in the slightest of agreements.

"I do trust you." Eric says, and his words are very carefully arranged. "I just don't trust anyone else." His confession blooms out of nowhere, and I tighten my grip on his neck. He peers up at me, and frowns. "Are you asking me all this to try to figure out why I've made decisions for you?"

He looks slightly insulted, but I nod anyway.

He huffs in exasperation, then leans into me, his nose slipping behind my ear until he kisses me very softly. "I was supposed to train you, Everly. That's it. I wasn't supposed to find myself giving a shit about who you hung out with, or where you slept at night. I wasn't supposed to have you stay in my apartment, let alone in my bed."

His lips trail down my neck, and my lips fall open as my head tilts to the side. "If I kept you close to me, I figured you'd eventually want to stay here on your own. I can't handle the thought of anyone else with you. Anyone else knowing you the way I do." He rests his head against mine, and I can feel him exhale. "Touching you, knowing what you sound like beneath them…" He trails off, but his grip intensifies. He raises his head, and his eyes are darker than I have ever seen them. "I know what you're doing, Everly."

I blink at him, all of my nerve slowly being replaced by something warm and slippery in my stomach.

"I know what you want." His nose nudges mine, and I can't help the small whimper that escapes me. "You want to hear me say it. You want me to tell you how much I miss you, how much I think about you all day long, how I can't wait until I can be close to you."

He presses his lips to mine, full and soft, but there is no demand behind his kiss.

"How much I care about you." He murmurs it against my lips, and one of his hands finds my hair, his fist tangling tightly in the long waves. "You want it all. You want me to confess everything to you." He breaks apart from me abruptly, and his eyes are half hooded. "Don't you?"

I chew my lip for a second, and I can feel him trying to slow his breathing. He looks raw and wild, his eyes full of a deep longing that won't be satisfied by this simple conversation.

"Don't you?" I ask him. My chest is tight, as though there is someone squeezing all the air out of my lungs. He swallows thickly, and he hesitates for a second before he roughly kisses me, his teeth knocking against mine. My nightgown is shoved to the side and he yanks me back to him, answering me the only way that Eric knows how.


	21. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to Jaqueline for reading through this and editing it for me! You are awesome :)
> 
>  
> 
> As always- thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and subscribing to the story. Makes my whole life. To those of you have who have reviewed with such kind words, I appreciate you more than you could imagine!
> 
> I'm working on Eric's POV. I have no idea when I'll get around to editing/positing it. I may try to finish this story first then post his version. I want to make sure it's him, if that make sense. But it's floating around on my laptop, and I think it could be really cool to read his point of view.
> 
> And finally, Enjoy! :D

He kisses me goodbye Monday, and he seemingly hesitates in the doorway, his fingers still in my hair.

"I'll see you for lunch." He mutters. I'm off with Max today, and it's brought Eric back to his normal, reserved self. His posture is straight and rigid, giving way to a cold and closed off persona. His eyes are only on me. He stands with his shoulders tensed towards me, as though the physical separation could be warded off if he stands close enough.

"You better not be late." I tell him, reaching up on my toes to brush my lips against his once more.

He smirks at me, for Eric is never late. He eventually lets go of me and his fingers slowly slip through the ends of my hair, his movements slower and softer than one would expect for a man who claimed he can't be gentle. Every cell in my body aches to follow after him; but I stand my ground. Max will be here shortly, and the agenda he emailed me looks overly ambitious for today.

I watch Eric walk away; his shoulders are now squared off and his head is held high. I watch him until he reaches the elevators, and he turns, his grey eyes finding mine set on him.

He smiles. It's slight and to the untrained eye, one might think he's merely smirking at the peons that work away in the offices. But I know better. I'm surprised to find myself missing him before he even steps through the elevator doors. I have the urge to run after him, to climb atop of his lap and kiss him senseless until he's willing to open up further. It's become some sort of dangerous addiction, an unquenchable thirst to know every little thing about him.

I swallow hard, and steel my shoulders to prepare myself for the day. I'm already counting down the hours, knowing that it's nothing more than a little over thirteen of them before I can crawl back into bed with him, and pry another confession out of him.

The doors shut and Eric vanishes before my eyes.

Unraveling Eric is hard, but letting myself unravel with him is just as hard.

 

 

"Are you and Eric coming to the New Year's Party?"

Jeremy stands before me, and his eyes seem to watch me nervously. He almost always looks nervous now, and I can't quite figure out why. Tris had no clue either. We'd met for dinner on Tuesday, and she'd spent the entire meal trying to figure out what was going on. I didn't have any better answers than she did, but I promised her I'd keep an eye on him.

Now I stare up at Jeremy, my fingers hovering over my keyboard. I'm supposed to be responding to an email about a meeting that Jack would like to have with only the Dauntless leaders, but Jeremy is a welcome distraction.

"We are going."

Eric hadn't really mentioned the party since our meeting, but I had decided that we would attend. It would be nice to be around everyone in a lighter atmosphere, and from what I've heard, the fireworks were supposed to be quite the show.

"Do you want to sit with Tris and I? During the fireworks?" Jeremy runs a hand through his hair, and looks at me with a pleading expression on his face. "She seemed unsure if she was going, and I thought maybe she'd want to go if we could hang out with you and Eric."

I try to keep my face neutral. I'm not sure how fun Tris would find hanging out with Eric. While she was supportive of our relationship, and often surprisingly insightful about it, she had never really hung out with the both of us together. Especially not on some sort of double date. I'm not even sure I've heard Tris talk about the New Year's Party.

"I'll talk to her. That could be really fun." I stop, thinking hard for a second. " Doesn't all of Dauntless go? I somehow doubt that Eric and I will be the only people there that Tris would want to hang out with.

Jeremy's face turns to something of annoyance. "Yeah, normally. I'm just hoping we don't run into Four." He rolls his eyes, and I can't help the sour feeling in my stomach. Even though Four is up to something, and strangely absent from almost every area of Dauntless, he's hardly someone that you'd need to avoid.

"Want to just plan on meeting sometime before the fireworks?" I ask him, returning my gaze to the screen in front of me. The cursor blinks impatiently, demanding I write something in response.

Jeremy nods his head. "Sure."

I smile at him, and realize this is the first decision I have ever made for both Eric and I, and I have no idea how he will react.

 

While I make my way to the apartment, I try to think of really fun ways to break the news to Eric that I've agreed for us to hang out with Jeremy and Tris. I can't figure out if he'll flat out refuse, or he'll agree then spend the whole night clenching his jaw and scowling.

The answer is neither.

He's too distracted because our kitchen table has been delivered, and he's impatiently waiting for me to notice that there's a bouquet of soft pink flowers in the middle of it. They smell sweet and floral, and I stop to stare at them and he slides his arms around me.

"Were they all out of black flowers?" I tease him, mumbling the words against his lips. He simply smirks and moves to set me atop of the new table.

"Stop talking." He tells me, his voice low. It's the last thing I hear him say before he kisses me again, this time long enough that I can't breathe but I don't care.

 

 

I crack my head open on a Thursday.

It's starts to snow heavily, and despite my heavy boots and keen sense of observation, I manage to step on a stair that is covered in dark ice. I was making my way towards the highest levels of Dauntless, trying to keep up with Max and Jeremy. They were further ahead, neither paying much attention to the fact that I was far behind them. It was partially my fault; growing up in Amity had meant that we spent a lot of our winters inside. My position had allowed me to stay near Johanna, and away from the actual weather. Amity offered little experience with icy stairs and frigid caverns.

But Dauntless is another story.

The hallways are frozen; literal icicles hanging in some of the colder parts of the compound. This particular staircase Max had chosen to take was covered in a layer of what looked like dirty icy water. It spiraled up high, so high that it seemed to disappear into the highest part of the caverns. Max had given Jeremy and me keycards that opened almost any door in Dauntless, with the exception of the apartments. He'd started us on a tour of important yet unknown places. Places that stored ammunition, housed those who were being held in a sort of jail, and storage spaces that would double as a safe house if the need ever arise. I'm assuming it never did, after all- Dauntless was the first line of defense.

I'd followed after them the best I could, but they were much faster and more skilled at walking on the slick stairs. This part of Dauntless was nearly abandoned; we hadn't seen so much as a soul for the past ten minutes, and we continued upwards. I was trying to focus, but my thoughts were anywhere but on where we were going.

I was thinking of Eric, warm and heavy beneath our sheets.

Him opening up to me was a huge step, but by no means did he answer all my questions. I'd awoken half on top of him, as if my body were physically holding him in place so he wouldn't wake up and slip out before I could talk to him. I didn't plan on barraging him with any more questions so soon, but maybe my subconscious was trying to tell me something.

It was nearly impossible to tear myself away from him. His skin had been deliciously hot from being pressed up against mine, and his head was tilted to the side, his throat open and exposed. In his sleep Eric is ultimately the most vulnerable, often unconsciously baring himself to me. I find the way he sleeps delightful. How easy it would be to stay there, curling back on top of him until the world drifted away.

But that wasn't the case.

I'd reluctantly slid off him, staring at his parted lips and his long eyelashes. I resisted the urge to touch his jaw bone, and instead I'd grumpily taken a shower and met Max and Jeremy all while wishing I'd asked for today off. Eric didn't sleep in easily, the man was almost always primed for action, but he'd sleepily whispered that he taken the day off because he thought I was off. Despair had flooded through me at his words; I wanted nothing more than to lie there with him until the morning slipped away.

I scowled at the staircase. It's large and metal, seemingly unsafe and impractical considering the two larger men who were trudging up it ahead of me. They both easily stepped off onto the floor Max had chosen and I made the mistake of glancing downwards. My boot missed the final step completely, and I twisted myself around to catch my balance. It didn't work, I lost my balance entirely, and my head hit the edge of the stair with a disturbing crack. I can feel a sudden drip of wetness in my hair. I was unsure if it was merely icy water, but when I reached my hand up to touch the quickly rising bump, it came away bloody. I manage to gracelessly sit upright, pressing my palm to my head. The room tilts for a second, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

The next thing I know, Jeremy is yelling my name and Max is simply muttering the word "Fuck."

 

 

Arlene is quiet while she stitches my head up.

She hums along to herself, and I wince every time the needle slides through the skin. Despite her numbing injection, I can still feel every pull and tug of my scalp, and I try to think of anything else but what she's doing.

"You okay, Everly?" Jeremy is sitting beside me on the bed, and he looks worried. He and Max had argued over who was going to go tell Eric, and Max had lost out when Jeremy threatened to quit the leadership program all together before he would go and tell Eric I'd cracked my head open.

"Yeah, I'm good." I close one eye as Arlene knots the thread, and I grimace. "I feel great."

He nods at me for a moment before he cocks his head to the aside. He then cringes and slides down off the table in a hurry.

I hear Eric before I see him.

His snarl is ever familiar, and there is a loud stomp of his boots on the floor. He all but shoves Jeremy out of the way, only stopping when he realizes I'm watching him.

"What happened?" He's staring at Jeremy with a look that is a cross between murder and more murder.

Jeremy swallows and takes a step back, holding up his hands in surrender. "I uh, I didn't see."

Eric glares, and takes a step towards him. He looks menacing, almost feral as his fists clench together and his chin tilts upwards. "Why is her head being stitched up?"

"It's not his fault, Eric. It's mine. I wasn't paying attention." I reach out for him, trying to pull him back towards me. "The stairs were really slippery, and I missed a step and fell backwards."

Eric's gaze snaps to mine, and he stares at me with a sort of reluctant relief in his eyes. He doesn't jerk his hand away from mine; instead he threads his fingers through my own, and takes a step closer towards me. His free hand brushes my cheekbone, and Arlene clears her throat.

"Coulter, I need to finish up and you're in my way."

He steps to the side, his eyes not leaving mine. I know what he's thinking. It's written across his face loud and clear- told you so. I glare up at him, trying to hold still while Arlene finishes her work. Jeremy has quietly slipped out of the room, and I'm grateful for his disappearance.

"I'm alright. We'll just have matching stitches." I try to smile at Eric, but Arlene tugs on the stitches a tiny bit and I wince. He doesn't answer me, he simply grimaces and lets Arlene finish her work. It's only a few minutes more before she steps away to grab my discharge papers.

"I know what you're going to say." I tell him, staring up at him. His eyes look down to mine, and he doesn't look the least bit amused.

"Oh, and whatever what would that be?" He asks, sneering at me. Eric flicks his gaze to the side at the loud screech that echoes through the room. It happens again, and this time, a small blur of black rushes past us.

"Henry! Get back here!"

It takes me a second to realize the small blur is a young boy, his brown hair sticking up in several directions and his face sticky with something that looks like cake. A woman rushes after him, a smaller baby in her arms and frazzled look on her face. "Henry!" She yells again, her face showing her annoyance. She disappears past us, heading into another room uselessly, as Henry reappears and heads our way.

Henry comes to a halt in front of Eric, and he stops dead in his tracks, his wide brown eyes frozen on Eric's large form. His mouth falls open as he takes in Eric's dark shirt and the block of tattoos on his neck.

"You're Eric!" Henry yells out, enthused that he's obviously just recognized one of Dauntless' main leaders. "I saw your picture in my book at school! We learned about faction leaders last week." He tells Eric, his voice ringing with evident pride. Henry turns his stare to me, and his eyes widen even further when they land our hands.

"Who are you?" He asks me. I smile down at him, and wave my fingers. He reminds me of one of the young children from Amity. Too much energy and not enough hours in the day to burn it off. I glance down at his dark long sleeved shirt, and his dark pants. Even the children here mimic the adults in their uniform of choice.

"I'm Everly." I tell him. Eric is watching the interaction curiously, and his eyes are still narrowed at the boy.

"Are you his girlfriend?" He jerks his thumb at Eric, and cocks his hip to the side. "Because my mommy said that Eric's girlfriend is way too nice and way too pretty to be involved with him." He says the final words in a dramatic whisper that he's clearly mimicked from his mother. I try to stifle the giggle in my throat and beside me, Eric raises his eyebrows and he lets out an annoyed exhale.

"Is that so?" Eric snaps. I watch as he jerks his hand away from mine, and crosses his arms, his posture incredibly defensive.

"Eric." I hiss at him. That last thing I need is for him to get into some sort of fight with this child.

Henry turns his stare back to me. "I'm six." He tells me. "When I grow up and I'm nine, I'm gonna take Eric's job around here." He looks at me for a long minute before he speaks again. "When I'm a leader, you can be my girlfriend."

Eric somehow manages to keep quiet. I smile at Henry and shake my head.

"Thank you for the offer. But I'm actually Eric's wife." I tell him.

Henry shakes his head, looking rather unimpressed. "But he's mean!" He frowns, and glances back at Eric and shrugs. "That's what my mom said."

"Oh I'm mean, am I?" Eric barks, unable to stay quiet any longer. I move to hop off the table in attempt to break up the upcoming fight between my husband this small child, but I'm saved by Henry's mother, finally realizing where Henry is. She comes to a dead halt next to the table, her eyes swinging nervously between her child and Eric.

"Henry." She nearly hisses at him, mortification plainly written all over her face. "Apologize right now." She looks visibly ill now, and her eyes keep glancing at Eric with some sort of terror, as though any second now she'll find out just how mean he really is.

Henry shrugs and looks at his feet before peeking up at Eric. "Sorry." He announces, not sounding very sorry at all.

Eric merely glares at the small child, his face frozen in some sort of grimace. Before anyone can say anything else, Henry's mother ushers him out, and she mutters a very quiet apology without looking at Eric. They are barely out the door before Arlene bursts out laughing, hard enough that she almost drops her papers.

 

 

The calendar reads December 25th, and the only excitement in the air is that it's finally stopped snowing.

"Are you going to tell me about your last relationship?" I take a bite of the carrot I'm eating, and Eric simply raises his eyebrow all while continuing to cut apart a turkey. I've been sitting on counter next to him, and watching him work methodically to carve away the meat. He finally pauses, and points the knife at me in a faux threat.

"Points for bravery, Amity."

I roll my eyes. "Just tell me." I swing my feet back and forth, and Eric cocks his head to the side. He looks intimidating from this angle, but I'm not afraid of him. Not when I've spent the past few nights listening to him groan my name into my neck.

"It's unimportant." He tells me, his gaze falling back to the meat in front of him. He continues until he's done, and I can tell he's trying hard to keep his stare down at the plate. The piercing above his eyebrow is pulled taut, and he's frowning.

"I told you about Landon." I point out. His eyes swing up to mine for the barest of seconds.

"And a thrilling tale it was." He wipes the knife off with a paper towel, then carefully sets it aside. "Do you want green beans?"

I stare back at him, trying not to scowl. Since the night when he told me was happy with me, he's managed to avoid any of my subtle questioning. Even in the early morning hours where he'd awoken to my hands tugging on the waistband of his boxers, he'd simply kiss me until I couldn't ask him anything else.

"Yes." I finally tell him, watching the muscles in his arms move as he readies a plate for me.

"Eat up." He turns to me, handing me a full plate He then frowns, catching my disapproving glance. "You'll gain absolutely nothing by knowing anything about my past relationships. They are utterly irrelevant to what goes on between you and I."

He takes his own plate and continues towards the kitchen table. "Are you eating on the counter?" He calls out over his shoulder, and I slide off the counter following him. I take the seat next to him, and watch him carefully.

"Is she still here?" I peer at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to pretend I'm fascinated by the meal in front of me. I can see his jaw stop.

"Everly." He says my name as a warning, and there is a slight bit of menace behind it. "Stop it." He takes a bit of his turkey, and chews it with a vengeance.

"Am I going to run into her? Won't I look awfully stupid if I sit by her at lunch and don't even know who she is?"

Eric doesn't look at me. "I can guarantee you won't sit next to her at lunch."

"But what if I do?" I prod him. I push the turkey around my plate before I finally take a bite. It appears to be much easier to get answer out of him if we're in bed.

"You won't." He snaps and I try hard to keep my stare on my plate. I should stop, I know. Eric is quickly losing the little patience he possesses. He doesn't want to talk, but I can't help but try.

"Is she…"

"Enough." He snarls, and his eyes look so dark that they remind of the time he had James by the throat. I've obviously hit a nerve with him, and judging by his reaction, it's the wrong one to press on. He stands up, shoving his plate aside.

I look up in surprise. He looks furious, and I haven't seen him look this angry in a long time now. He stalks over to me, and stops before my chair. I rise up, my heart racing. Is this it, the moment where things go horribly bad and Four's warning to be careful around Eric comes true? I can't fathom that to be true at all. In all of our time together, the Eric I've come to know is hardly the terrible man that he was rumored to be.

I stare at him, my eyes wide but never leaving him. I don't believe he would ever hurt me, but in the moment, I can't be so sure he won't say something that will hurt more than if he did.

He reaches for me, his arms snaking around my waist until I'm pressed against his chest. He keeps me tight against him, and his fingers reach the nape of my neck. I look up at him, and I prepare for the worst he's got to offer.

He hisses his words, but they aren't what I expect.

"They meant nothing to me. Nothing at all. You want their names? All the details? You want to hear what I did with each of them? How it compares to what I do with you?"

I bite my lip, and shake my head. That's not what I want, not even the slightest bit. "I just want you to tell me…"

He cuts me off, and his eyes are less furious now. "You want me to tell you that I love you. Believe me, I know." His words take me by surprise. I hadn't exactly been subtle about the fact that I felt something for him. I'd struggled with it myself. In fact I'd almost ignored the inkling that it could be more than just simple affection I felt for him. He stills against me, his grip in my hair still tight.

"I ended things with both of them. I grew bored, uninterested in them past the point of my bedroom. Is this what you want to hear? I never kissed them goodnight and I never held them against me while I slept." My heart is racing now, beating wildly in my chest. He leans forward, his face close to mine.

"I never said their names while I had my way with them. I never bothered to remember where they came from, or what they were wearing the first time I met them." Eric is trying to slow his breathing now, but he's agitated- worked up at my insistent questioning. "I never thought about marrying either of them."

"How long did you think about marrying me for?" I want to tilt my head upwards and kiss him. I want to feel his lips on mine but I also very badly want him to tell me more. I want every delicious detail of what he's been thinking; even though it's the last thing he wants to offer up.

Eric closes his eyes for a moment, and his free hand finds my cheek.

"Long enough." His words are soft, more dangerous that way. Somewhere in my chest my heart seems to frantically beat against his chest. He closes the space between us, his mouth finding mine. "No more questions for a month, Amity."

I break the kiss, shaking my head. "Two weeks." I tell him. He smiles, dark and pleased, his eyes glancing down at me.

"Three weeks.

"Two and a half weeks." I counter.

He raises an eyebrow. "Two months."

"That's not how negotiating works, Eric." I slide my hands up until they reach his jaw, and I pull him back to me.

"I wasn't aware you were in any position to negotiate with me." He tells me. He presses his lips against mine, softly at first, before he bites on the lower one for a minute. He breaks away abruptly.

"Fine. Two weeks. But you'll have to work for the answers." He looks smug now; he bows his head back against mine.

I nod, a smile breaking onto my face. "Anything I want to ask you?"

He stares for a second, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit. "We'll see about that."

I smile up at him, already thinking of what I'm going to ask him. Eric doesn't know it, but I've won this round, and it's starting to become easier and easier.

 

 

"He said you can ask him anything?" Christina and Tris are walking me down the long hallway towards the control room. Eric has spent the morning showing me how to request a surveillance report, and more importantly, how to make sure the footage is complete.

"Sometimes sections go missing. Some for security reasons, and sometimes for more personal reasons." He'd leered at me, and I knew exactly what he was referring to. I wasn't quite brave enough to ask if Four had erased the footage of Eric and I.

I shrug at the girls. "I'm sure he won't answer everything." We make our way down a set of stairs, and I carefully make sure I don't slip again. We are about halfway there when I spy Four; he's walking quickly, his head down and his shoulders slumped. I can tell he's trying to go unnoticed.

"I'll be right back. I've gotta make a quick stop." I tell Christina and Tris, and I break away before they can protest. I slip down the same hallway Four chooses, trying to speed up until I'm close to him. I'm a few feet behind him when he comes to an abrupt stop, and I don't stop in time.

"Ow."

He stumbles for a second and turns to me in surprise. "Everly. What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" I ask him, forgoing any greeting. It seems that Four and I never have time for formalities. "Why haven't I seen you in the past few weeks?" I put my hands on my hips and stare up at him. He looks the same more or less. His brown hair is slightly longer, curling around his ears and his collar. He hasn't shaved today, but he looks well rested and less cautious than the last time I saw him.

He stares at me cautiously for a moment before he sighs. "How well does Eric tolerate your approach to asking things?"

I smile sweetly. "Really well. He loves it when I ask him questions."

Four raises his eyebrow in disbelief. "I'm sure." He mutters. He looks behind me, before stepping closer and bending his head down. "Actually, I do need to talk to you. I have a question about something in Amity." He looms over me, and I nod.

"What's your question?"

Four shifts uncomfortably. "Do you know anything about the water reservoir?"

I shake my head. I know he's seen the footage of the man trying to pry the grate open. I'd thought about it off and on. The water reservoir was nothing more than a small manmade lake of sorts; sometimes the water was filtered down into the fields as irrigation for the crops.

"I saw that guy trying to move the grate. I don't know what he's doing though. It doesn't lead anywhere that I know of." I tell him.

He thinks for a minute. "Have you ever been in it?"

I shake my head and wrinkle my nose. "No, the water is usually untreated. I know that Erudite worked with Amity a lot to try to find ways to purify it, but it was mostly used in the fields. We were always advised to stay away from it."

Four chew his lip. "Is it guarded?"

"No, I mean once everyone is done for the day the fields are usually abandoned. No one would notice if someone was out there."

Four frowns. "Did you recognize the man on the security tape?"

I shrug. "No, but Amity is pretty large. Are you thinking it wasn't someone from Amity?"

"I don't know." He mutters. "I was more concerned with where the pipe went."

I think for a long second, trying to remember the layout of Amity. It's been a long time since I've made my way through their fields, let alone near one of the more neglected areas. "I want to say it draws water from another source, and the pipe must bring the water to Amity. Sometimes the lake had more water, sometimes less. It always seemed to refill itself."

"You ever see it empty?" Four asks.

"No, but I never really paid attention." He nods at me, but he looks distracted.

"Thanks Everly. You've been a lot of help." Four turns to leave, but I stop him.

"Wait! Are you coming to the fireworks?" I don't know where the question comes from, but for some reason I hope he shows up.

Four simply shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Maybe."

 

 

New Year's Eve is blistering cold.

I try to stay close to Eric and he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. His arm is warm around my waist, and my side is firmly pressed up against him. I'd dressed as warmly as I could; Christina had leant me a pair of fur boots, I'd worn several long sleeved shirts, Eric's old hoodie, a soft leather jacket over it, and the warmest pants I'd owned. Eric had watched me dress, and his expression seemed curiously entertained.

The party was held outside, on the very roof the initiates leapt off of. It was lit up for the night, and in typical Dauntless fashion, it was lit up with large contained fires. Several metal lanterns had been strung above a makeshift bar, and there were large areas for guests to sit. People were milling around everywhere, and the space seemed downright packed.

It was easy to recognize the different factions. Those from Erudite were dressed warmly but still in blue, those from Candor were slightly more ambitious with their party outfits, but still practical enough to stay warm. Dauntless was split- either bundled up in all black, or taking their chance against hypothermia in rather skimpy, revealing outfits. There was no one from abnegation that I could see.

As we make our way towards the large bar, I spy a few people from Amity. They are bundled up in bright colors, and their cheeks are red with excitement. They seem to mix well with the others. Most from Amity are easy to get along with, and always easy to talk to.

"What do you want to drink?" Eric asks. In the cold night he looks like some sort of arctic king. His jacket is heavy and dark, and his eyes seem to burn with an icy brightness behind him. The air around us is sharp and cackles with an excited electricity.

I quickly take in the list of drinks and chose the one that sounds the warmest.

"I'll have a mint hot chocolate." I inform the man behind the bar. His mohawk seems glittery even in the dark night, it's white and silver strands stay perfectly upright. He grins at me.

"You sure? It's strong." He reaches for a glass mug, and begins to pour a clear liquid in. I can smell the mint, and I nod my head.

"It sounds good." I tell. Eric snorts beside me.

"What?" I turn my head to him. "You don't like hot chocolate?"

He shakes his head he half smiles. "Enjoy your tequila and peppermint schnapps with splash of hot chocolate." He then turns back to the bartender, and resumes his serious expression. "Shot of Evan Williams. Don't mix mine up with hers."

The bartender winks at him, bobbing his mohawk along as he sets my drink aside and pours Eric a generous amount of whatever he has just ordered. It smells strong and heady, and I wrinkle my nose.

"What is that?" I ask him, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. It's warm and delicious, and I'm surprised to find that I don't mind the alcohol in it.

"Bourbon." Eric tells me, and he guides me towards the group of couches set up next to a fire. I happily slide in next to him, curling myself against his side. I sip my drink and glance around, watching everyone enjoy themselves.

For once Dauntless has an energy about it that isn't overwhelmingly aggressive. It's chaotic still, but there is a current of underlying joy rushing through it. It's not often that the factions come together, and for once I can see how they all co-exist. I watch for a minute, until Eric's fingers find my ear lobe.

I turn to look at him, and Jeremy and Tris appear out of nowhere. They both have red cheeks and appear frazzled.

"Sorry." Tris tells us, flashing a wide smile in my direction. "We lost track of time." I smile back and her, and I can tell Eric is trying very hard to hold back whatever retort he was about to say.

"It's ok. We just got here." I tell her. Jeremy sits down beside her and glances at us. He looks slightly awkward, as though he's uneasy being so close to Eric and I in a non-work environment. I take another sip of my drink, enjoying how warm it is.

"You uh, find anything else out about that e-mail Max sent out?" Jeremy asks Eric, and he rubs at the back of his neck nervously. It's obvious he's searching for something to talk about. "I'm not sure how to find out what areas use localized water sources."

Something pricks at the back of my neck, and I straighten my spine up the tiniest bit. "What e-mail?" I ask Eric. He looks at me for a second before he frowns.

"You didn't get it? I thought Max sent it out. He just wanted to know what factions use additional water sources. Like lakes and streams." Eric frowns even further. "Dauntless has a backup water system in case the main one fails. Same thing with the generators. Max didn't go over this with you?"

I shake my head. "No. Maybe he will soon. Why would Max want information about this?"

Eric smirks. "He doesn't. It was forwarded on from Jeanine."

I almost drop my drink as I slowly start to piece a theory together, and Eric's whole body stiffens. He bends closer to me, bending his head down till his lips touch my ear. "It's exactly what you're thinking, and I suggest you pretend you are none the wiser."

I nod at him, forcing my face into a smile. Eric looks at Jeremy.

"Just e-mail the faction assistants and ask them. If you don't get anything back from them you can talk to someone from Erudite's resource preservation teams. They'll tell you."

Jeremy nods in thanks, and I realize Tris is staring at me curiously. I silently try to tell her I'll fill her in later, and she seems to understand. The conversation comes to an abrupt halt as there is a loud bang, and the lanterns suddenly go out. Everyone on the rooftop quiets down, and there is an unusual stillness in the air.

I glance around and see Eric watching towards the edge of the roof.

"Who's in charge of the fireworks?" I ask him. I want very badly to see them. There was a small rumor that if the snowstorm didn't stop that the fireworks would be canceled. I didn't understand why, but Eric had explained they weather would render them useless. I'm staring at the fires, and Eric nudges me.

"Look up there." He points slightly higher in the air. "And Jason and Rylan are in charge of them. Pretty good chance one of them will end up catching fire before the nights over."

I turn my gaze to where he's pointing, and my eyes widen as the first spark bursts in the air.

It's the prettiest thing I have ever seen.

They burst with a loud boom; the sound reminds me of gunfire, except rather than forcing violence, this firework forces beautifully colored sparks into the air. They bloom in different colors; long streaks of whites and golds and pinks and reds.

The next few that explode are blue and green, with several quick bursts of white in the middle.

I can't take my eyes off of them.

"You've never seen these before?" I can hear Eric beside me, and I'm not really listening. I've moved slightly away from him, towards the edge of the seat, as if I could push myself closer towards the sparkling lights.

"I haven't." I don't want to miss anything, and I watch the fireworks seem to multiply, booming loudly in the cold night. Eric leans forward and scoots himself closer to me, his thigh pressed against mine and his arm sliding around my waist.

"Your Amity is showing." He teases, his voice low and playful in my ear. I squirm against him and his distracting ways, and I elbow him.

"Quiet, Eric."

He snorts before his kisses my neck and I have to work hard to not sink against him. The fireworks keep bursting, like beautiful explosions in the sky. This one is green and purple, and Eric's teeth graze the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

"Pretty." He mutters. The next group bursts with five or six in a row, and I jerk my head to look over at him. I stare for a second, wondering how I've gone my whole life without seeing these fireworks.

"They're really pretty." I feel slightly embarrassed at my awe of them. They don't seem to be too overly impressive to Eric, but I have a hard time tearing my stare away. Eric smiles, his lips curling upwards in delight and he leans in until his nose brushes mine.

"I wasn't talking about the fireworks, Everly." He kisses me, his lips soft and full against my own. I kiss him back gently, moving my hands to reach his cheeks, then behind his ears, until the stop in his hair. He kisses me harder until my lips part open for him, and I can now barely register the loud eruptions around us. One of Eric's hands works its way into my hair, tugging me close to him, his fingers curling around the nape of my neck. I break apart from him for the barest of seconds.

I am taken back by his sudden public affection, but no one is paying any attention to us. Tris and Jeremy have moved to stand a few feet ahead of us, and she's on her toes whispering something to him. Everyone else is staring up the sky, watching the smokey colored trails until the next set of fireworks go off.

I move closer to Eric, rising enough so I can turn towards him before I find his lips again. I will never tire of this; his mouth against mine, his hands in my hair. He loosens his grip in my hair, and he breaks apart before I am done with the kiss.

"Everly." He says my name and it sounds different; it sounds warm and intoxicating, full of promise. He gazes up at me, and his eyes are dark and clear- swimming with an emotion that he's unable to express. I swallow and tighten my grip on him, pressing my forehead against his.

"Eric." I whisper. I can tell he's close, oh so close, to spilling something to me. I try to silently urge him on. All around us people are murmuring now, some loudly cheering as the fireworks burst in rapid succession. They explode at a frantic rate, and my heart follows the same wild pace.

Eric isn't really smiling anymore; in fact he looks downright hopeless. I've never seen this look on his face before, and it is one that he doesn't wear well. He closes his eyes, and nuzzles against my face until his nose touches mine. The act, though familiar, is more intimate than some of the other acts we've shared.

"I…" he starts, and then he stops for one heart breaking moment too long. In front of us, people begin to shriek with excitement as the grand finale approaches. My ears ring as the fireworks explode in succession.

"You. Only you." He whispers. "I only want you." He kisses me furiously, the admission sliding out of him almost painfully. He breaks apart suddenly, and his eyes fly open. His breathing is erratic, and I flash back to the first time he kissed me. I remember the feeling of his mouth on mine, wild and demanding, seething with unspoken jealousy. It feels like ages ago that I sat there, wishing he wouldn't stop.

He parts his lips, and looks me right in the eye. "Everly, I…"

He doesn't finish his sentence. Because someone right behind us screams and the next crack isn't that of a firework, it's one from a gunshot.


	22. Revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your patience, love, and comments. I appreciate everyone who's taken time to read this story and who's told me that they enjoy it.   
> Writing is something I never planned on doing, but I rather enjoy it and I hope you guys have enjoyed Eric and Everly.

Everyone on the roof reacts in their own way.

Those from Dauntless leap into action, Eric included. He breaks apart from me with an abrupt force, his hands falling away, and he easily strides his way towards the sound of the gunfire. I follow after him immediately, and Tris and Jeremy run after us. There is a small circle of people surrounding the man waving the gun in the air. He is filthy; matted hair and ripped clothing, and a sort of crazed expression on his face. He grins maniacally as Eric approaches, and I panic, my heart leaping into my throat.

From what I know, Eric is unarmed. He shows no sign of fear, however. He simply marches forward, and ignores the man's sudden wild movements. The man aims the gun unsteadily, and staggers towards Eric with an unfound confidence. It takes mere seconds for Eric's fist to connect with the man's jaw, and he goes sprawling on to the ground, the gun flying out of his hands and clattering to the side.

Someone from Amity is shrieking, and someone from Candor is loudly asking their friends to move out of the way so they can have a better view. Eric roughly pulls the man to his feet, and forces his arms behind his back.

There are no less than a few dozen Dauntless surrounding him now, and somewhere behind us, the fireworks end their finale, leaving the rooftop oddly silent.

 

 

I stand beside Eric while Max and Tori stand over the man with their arms crossed.

He's been settled into one of the corners of the roof, and up close, I can see that he is not much older than myself.

His eyes aren't particularly focused, in fact they seem to move uncontrollably. He doesn't really say much. He mutters incoherently, and I can only make out a few of the words that are discernible.

"Why are you here?" Eric snarls at him.

The man lets out a laugh, a rough barking laugh that sounds painful before he mutters a jumbled slur of something.

The last words he spews make Eric's jaw clench tightly and his eyes harden.

_Drink up._

 

 

Eric's hands are large than mine.

He has long fingers, and his nails are always short and neatly filed. I match my hand up to his, noting the way my fingers are smaller, less elegant but they look nice against his. Our skin tone is the same pale shade now, and I have to say I don't miss the constant gritty feel they had back in Amity. My nails are polished with a pink color, completely opposite of the one Christina and I had first picked out. I briefly wonder if Eric would let me paint his nails.

I snort at the thought, and he shifts beneath me, folding his fingers down over mine.

"What's so funny, Amity?"

We've been in bed for the past hour, but both of us have been too distracted to do anything other than lie beneath the covers. I can't help but think of the factionless man. How he managed to make his way into Dauntless. What he wanted. Who he was planning on shooting. Was he even aware of what he was doing?

I shake my head at Eric, then slide my fingers out of his and turn on my side. I prop myself up on to his chest until I'm over him, my hair falling to graze his chest.

"What were you going to tell me up there?" I ask him. I try to hold his stare, and he furrows his eyebrows.

"What?" He asks casually, as though he's completely forgotten that before the gunshot, he was about to admit something to me.

"You can just tell me how you feel you know." I inform him. "It's just me." I try to gauge his reaction, hoping it's something along the lines of acceptance. Instead he raises an eyebrow and looks slightly arrogant.

"Oh I can, can I? Tell you how I feel?" His words are slippery, and I realize far too late that he's not spilling anything tonight. The moment is gone, and Eric is painfully distracted by the night's final event.

"Eric." I try to say his name firmly, holding my ground. I watch as his lips curl up and his eyes fall down to my shoulders.

"I feel like you should take off that nightgown." He tells me, matter-of-factly. He brushes my hair off my shoulders and narrows his eyes in mild loathing. "Where did you get that anyway? It looks like it's for a small child."

I scowl at him, ignoring his insult. I like my nightgown. "It's pretty." I tell him.

"Pretty in the way." He announces. His fingers trace down my arms before he meets my glare. "I feel like you would look much better without it on."

"Eric." His name sounds like a whine, and I push myself closer to him. "That's not what I meant."

Eric stares up at me, his lips still smirking. "You wanted me to tell you how I was feeling."

I full on glare now, but it only lasts a second. He tangles his fingers underneath my hair, twisting the strands around and around. His eyes are on my hair, and his expression changes to something of intense focus.

"I have something for you."

He pushes me off him, and I want to protest as he slips out of bed and out of the bedroom door. He's only gone a moment before he returns, still shirtless and rumpled hair. I like to watch him when he's not really aware I am. I like the way his large and hulking frame manages to seem less intimidating while he does something trivial, like comb his hair. It's almost unfair that the rare version of Eric exists, but only in the quietest of moments.

He catches my eyes, and heads back to the bed, sliding back beneath the sheets.

"Lay down." He tells me. "And close your eyes."

I listen to him obediently, closing my eyes and settling back against the pillows. I can feel him move over me, and I try not to giggle as his lips brush against my neck.

"Hold still." He commands. He kisses his way up my jaw, and finally kisses my lips briefly. He then takes my hand, and spreads my fingers apart. I have no clue what he's doing, until he slides something down the second finger on my hand. My eyes fly open on their own and the first thing I notice is that his face is staring at my hand with an intense concentration. It takes him a second before he looks satisfied as he twists the bands around my finger.

I move to sit up and he lets me, settling back against his heels. He watches me carefully as I stare down at the ring on my finger.

In my wildest dreams, somewhere deep and hidden in my mind, did I ever think that Eric was very serious about our marriage. He hadn't given me any reason to think otherwise, but the inkling that marriage wasn't a permanent thing with Eric had been nagging at me. It wasn't that he was walled up or closed off, and it wasn't that he seemed incapable of expressing any sort of emotion without being provoked.

It simply stemmed from my own insecurities. That he was enjoying this now, someone to warm his bed and keep him satisfied during the long winter nights, but by the next season he'd be onto the next warm body. Other than a flimsy scrap of paper, there was nothing that truly spoke of our marriage.

But the ring that sits on my finger, the very sparkly very perfectly icy and bright ring does exactly that.

The band is a pretty silver color, and a large diamond sits atop of it, surrounded by a circle of smaller diamonds. They are all perfectly shimmery, glistening even in the dim lighting of his bedroom. It reminds me of a flower, the prettiest and shiniest flower one could imagine. The band matches the ring, and it's dotted with the same diamonds.

I stare up at him, wondering just what this means for us.

Wedding rings were not exactly a Dauntless tradition. Dauntless were more likely to tattoo something on themselves in honor of their partner. Or they'd celebrate with matching piercings. Something much flashier and dramatic. They weren't common place in Amity either. Their ceremony and celebration was the main display of marriage, and it was usually followed up by the newly married couple moving into one of the smaller housing areas away from the main compound.

Rings were more typical in Erudite. They enjoyed wearing them as a status symbol, as some sort of badge of honor that they had found a partner worthy of their affection.

Eric is watching me carefully, his face still serious.

"Do you…do you have a ring for yourself?" I ask him.

He nods silently, and he reaches towards the side of him. The band he produces is dark silver, and it matches the one on my finger, only a shade darker. He slides it onto his own finger, and the look in his eyes tells me that this has taken a lot for him to do. Marrying me might have been one thing, but publically announcing his marriage is something else.

Neither of us says anything.

He finally clears his throat, and his eyes fall to the side of me. "I was going to give it to you after the fireworks."

I move to kiss him, to touch his hair, his skin, anything. But the moment is broken, again and ultimately unfairly, as the tablet next to the bed beeps repeatedly, more demanding than I could have imagined for an electronic device.

 

 

 

The next few weeks are intense and my least favorite so far.

Jeanine shows up exactly one day after the factionless man crashes the New Year's party. She still looks pristine as ever, and her face shows little expression when Max informs her the man seemed to be under some sort of influence.

Jeanine stands at the head of the table, and her gaze flicks around the room. She takes in the edgy posture of everyone except for Eric. He's leaning back in the chair, his eyes focused on the paper in front of him. Her eyes finally stop on me and for a brief moment I swear she looks irritated.

"The factionless are obviously becoming a bit of problem." She says, her voice controlled and even. Her heels click against the floor. "Perhaps it's time we find a way to impart some sense of order amongst them."

"And how would we do that?" Jeremy's voice snaps out from the side of the room, and every head turns to look at him. He looks antsy and uncomfortable. "It's not like they're willing to just take direction."

Jeanine smiles at him, patient as ever. "I'm working on that part. As soon as we're done with all these little distractions we've been having.." She pauses, and her eyes seem to fall back upon me. "We'll focus our efforts on this project."

 

She keeps Eric after the meeting.

I move to the leave the meeting my room, and I hesitate for the barest of seconds to say goodbye to Eric. Her eyes skim over me as though I shouldn't be here.

"Nice to see you again." She tells me, but her words are thin. She dismisses me with a curt nod, and Eric frowns from beside her, but he doesn't say anything. He stands rigid, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Everly, I need you and Jeremy to come with me." Max appears beside me and I throw Eric a look. He could at least say goodbye. He keeps his eyes on Jeanine, and they look bored as ever. He glances back at me and shrugs his shoulders very very slightly.

"Sure." I follow after Max after I glare at Eric, and I feel slightly disheartened for reasons that I can't figure out.

 

 

I miss him.

Eric spends a lot of time working on whatever project Jeanine has given him. She's very obviously singled him out. From her words in the meeting it's clear that she thinks he's been distracted lately, and this is her way of driving home just exactly what his main focus should be. Her sparse words played in my mind over and over, until I squeezed my eyes shut.

I couldn't help but think of Jeanine's face, and how much I'd like to punch her in it.

I understand that Eric is a leader in Dauntless, and I understand that he's been personally assigned to help her, and I understand that he probably can't get out of it, but I hate it. Whether Eric believes in whatever cause Jeanine is currently crusading for, I can't be certain. But I do know that he works on it all day and night and therefore I am forced to spend a lot of time with Max and Jeremy.

Lately Eric has been up late still working long past when he should be done. I find him hunched over his laptop, his brow furrowed and his eyes intensely focused on the screen. He types quickly, pulling up security cameras, records, and pages of data that I don't understand. Some sort of charts and graphs, detailed data that holds his attention more than me, and videos of people that look like they're sleepwalking. He doesn't say anything as I sulkily go to bed, feeling neglected and rather alone.

Eric does make an effort to make sure we eat dinner together, but his tablet beeps continually, to the point where I contemplate throwing it against the wall. On Friday it beeps six times before we've even sat down, and he looks exasperated at it.

"I'll be right back." He mutters.

"Don't bother." I snap. The words come out of my mouth in a sharp tone, and I find myself unnaturally cranky. Maybe I'm too pent up, too bored with listening to Max talk about factional politics or which leader drank the last of his coffee and didn't replace it. Too irritated with Eric being distracted by his work and his refusal to clue me in on it. Ignorance can't be all bliss, but Eric sticks to his theory that I'm safer if I'm kept in the dark.

Eric's eyes snap to mine and I watch his whole body stiffen.

"What did you say?" He asks, his words quiet and deadly. He's stopped halfway from the kitchen table, and he looks downright irritated. "Did you tell me, don't bother?" He repeats my words carefully.

I stand with my hands on my hips and shrug my shoulders. "It's fine. I'll just eat by myself. I know you have work to do."

He looks outright annoyed now. His nostrils flare and his fingers tense. "I have a job to do here." His words are an icy snarl, and I can sense the frustration brewing beneath them. I know I'm not the only one who's had enough of his project.

"Whatever, Eric." I look down at the table, and move to pick up my plate. "I said it's fine."

The look he's throwing me is something intense. It's full of equal parts enragement and equal parts disbelief. He turns to head towards the bedroom, and I set my plate back down. I make the sudden decision to go and eat dinner in the mess hall. I'm hoping I'll find Christina or Tris down there. At the very least I could sit with Karl if he's not working. Or by myself. Since I'm becoming great at that.

I make my way to the bedroom to tell Eric. He will probably appreciate the quiet and the space, and he can focus on whatever Jeanine wants him to do. Maybe he'll finish up faster, and he can return to being less involved at work.

We stop in the doorway at the same time, and neither of us moves out of the way. He simply looks down at me, and his glare is still prevalent.

"I'm going to go eat with Tris." I tell him. He narrows his eyes and shakes his head.

"No you aren't." He answers, and his words are frosty.

"Yes, I am." I answer, starting to feel impatient. I need to get out of here. I need human interaction that isn't all about Dauntless protocol and how much water one faction consumes on a weekly basis.

"No, you aren't." He says it again, and this time his tone is much harsher than I'm used do. He reaches for me, yanking me towards him and catching me off guard. I stumble for a second, and he uses it to his advantage. The next thing I know I'm on our bed, and he's pushing me backwards until I'm against the pillows.

He reaches forwards, grasping the bottom of my shirt, and easily yanks it up and roughly over my head. He tosses is aside with little care, and I try to shove my hair back into some sort of order. "Eric!" I yelp his name but he pays no attention. His own shirt is next; he grasps at the collar and effortlessly pulls it off before tossing it aside. I swallow as his bare skin meets mine, followed by his mouth on mine.

His hands work to undo his belt, and he manages to shove his pants down all while yanking at mine impatiently.

"You aren't going anywhere." He tells me after he breaks our kiss. He finds the softest skin on my neck, and his teeth sink in as he bites down hard. I groan beneath him; he's returned to marking my skin with same primal vengeance he did the first night he kissed me. He bites harder, and then moves lower, until the skin along my collarbone is just as red and wet. I arch against him, enjoying the way his hips crush into mine, and he reaches between us. My leggings slide of easily, and his bare legs against mine make my skin burn. I've missed the feel of him, the weight of him like this.

He pulls my underwear down, and I forget that I'm mad at him. I forget that I've spent the past few nights falling asleep without him, I forget that I've spent the past few days listening to Max drone on about paperwork, and I forget that Jeremy stared at my wedding ring with a seething sense of jealousy.

Eric parts my legs, and presses his lips against my stomach, then my hip bone.

"I told you I'm trying to keep you safe." He hisses.

"I know." I manage to sigh, but it's hard to think while his head is slowly moving between my legs. He presses his nose against the inside of my thigh and I squirm against him, willing him to move elsewhere. "Eric." I whine, desperate for him to continue. I wonder if this is how he felt when I fell asleep early every night. The separation between us has made me feel crazed. If only that factionless man hadn't shown up and interrupted our night everything would be right in our world.

I stop thinking when I feel the first slide of his tongue, slowly licking upwards. He moves at a torturous pace, and I can't help but groan his name. I try hard to not shove my hips against his face, but the urge is overwhelming. My fingers reach for his short hair, grasping at the longer pieces.

"Ohhh." He keeps moving, alternating between licking and sucking, and I find myself lifting my hips up to meet him. I can't help the soft moans that slide out from my lips. My breathing starts to quicken, and I glance down as Eric rises up on his knees, and I realize he's stroking himself through his dark boxers. The impatience of his actions causes a rush of warmth to burn through me. I groan at the sight of him. My thighs burn with an increasing ache, but I shove it away and tug on his hair.

He raises his eyes curiously, and I pull at him until he pushes himself up towards my face.

"You." I mumble, and he nods. I wait for his smirk, but he merely yanks his boxers down and nudges my legs apart before he slides himself inside of me. The feeling of Eric is one that I can't quite explain; he is all too big and heavy over me, but I wouldn't prefer it any other way. He thrust roughly into me, and one of his hands finds my wrist and pins it above my head.

The action serves to reinforce what he told me earlier.

I'm not going anywhere, not any time soon, not any time ever.

He says my name is his hips grind against mine, and he's nearly frantic in his motions. It suddenly occurs to me that none of this is really his doing; his position in Dauntless forces his hand in Jeanine's matters. I'm starting to think he doesn't actively want to search out those that she has deemed traitorous. And he certainly doesn't want to spend his time researching whatever she demands. He's merely expected to do it, and he's been trained to do it, so he will- unquestionably.

In another life, Eric would be free from the weight of his responsibilities, but then he wouldn't be Eric.

He groans my name, and this time my chest aches at the sight of him. His eyes are wild and brimming with a frustrated lust, and he's got his head against mine. He pulls me up until I am sitting, then slides himself out of me.

"No!" I protest, but I needn't worry. He simply switches our positions, and I hover above him for the barest of seconds before he slams my hips down onto him. He fists my hair tightly, his grip bordering on painful and he bends forward.

"I've missed you, you know." His words are a hot yowl in my ear. I bite my lip hard, and he pulls me close until I am flush against his chest. I nod, trying to keep my stare on him. His face is tight and intense. Eric is nothing but focused, ever dedicated to the task at hand.

I can tell he is close by the way his muscles are tensing and he seems to be focusing only on me. He kisses me roughly, and it only takes a few more arcs of my hips before I am gasping out his name and he nearly blurs before me. He follows suit easily, his free hand tightening on my waist, and I can feel his whole body go rigid. He lets us fall backwards, and he doesn't slide out of me until I move to climb off of him. I lay my head on his chest, watching it rise and fall as he slowly calms down, and try to slow my breathing.

I curl my fingers against his chest, my dinner long forgotten.

"You could have just told me how you felt." I point out, very softly.

Eric huffs but he holds onto me just the slightest bit tighter.

 

 

"Do you want to go to Amity first or Erudite?" Jeremy asks me on a day that is making me want to shoot someone. Nothing has gone right this morning. It started when I broke the toaster, and continued on up until I ended my phone call with Max by telling him I missed him. I had stared at the phone horrified. I wasn't very used to using one, and so far the only person I'd ever called on it was Eric.

The call had been quick; Max informing me that Jeremy and I needed to take time out in our day to take ID photos and he'd see us tomorrow at some point. I'd thanked him then told him I missed him. He'd been quiet, probably confused or horrified, and I'd hung up before I could explain that my brain was used to saying goodbye to Eric.

I needed some coffee. Badly.

Eric and I had been up late, really late every night this past week. Jeanine must have been on vacation, or maybe she'd finally given up her stupid dreams of finding her factional traitors, because Eric had been much more relaxed all week.

At least he seemed relaxed as he had lazily thrust into me from behind.

The nights were starting to blur together. I tried to keep track of them the best I could, but it was easy to get lost in him. Between focusing on my leadership training and on him, I barely had time to register the way the days fell away. All that mattered was that I was with him and things were going considerably well between us.

The thought ate at my brain. It was becoming hard to ignore the fact that what I felt for him was no longer a simple infatuation, or even some sort of unassuming crush. It was starting to become more apparent that what I felt for him was much stronger, and sometimes I thought I felt it from him too.

His hands have always lingered on my skin, and his eyes always stayed on mine, but now it's become habit for him. I'd catch him looking at me with a curious expression, and it often gave way to raw frustration. He'd swallow and thrust his chin forward; defiance at its greatest. It was what he did best, but I was getting better at seeing through it.

He held my hands in the hallways now, but he the last one to let go. His grip was always tight and his shoulders were always back, practically daring someone to question him. But he didn't let go even when people did find their eyes curiously on our fingers.

He always kissed me goodbye as we parted ways, and he preferred to be the last one to step back, his eyes always watching as we parted ways.

He was content to sit on the couch with me while I finished up my third book, my head in his lap and his fingers in my hair.

And he'd kept quiet when I'd mentioned that Max was pushing us for a date to visit amity.

I stare at Jeremy for a second, and his stare is still back on the ring on my finger.

"Let's do Amity. I'm pretty sure I'm visiting Erudite with Eric." I tell him, trying hard to resist moving my hand out of his sight. Tris seemed happen enough with Jeremy, and he had this sort of puppyish enthusiasm about their relationship. However I couldn't exactly foresee her reacting with much enthusiasm if Jeremy suddenly proposed.

"So…you are Eric are married. Like really married." Jeremy completely ignores my answer, and he tilts his head to the side. "For some reason I thought you guys were just really close."

I raise an eyebrow, probably the perfect impersonation of Eric. "Really close? You thought we were just really close?" Eric hardly seems like the type to let anyone just be close to him. "No, we're very much married." I tell him firmly, and I pull up the calendar on my computer. "Let's do next Thursday."

Jeremy nods, looking slightly taken back at the tone in my voice. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just never though he'd get married. Seems like he's be a little noncommittal."

I glance at him out of the side of my eye. "Well he's married now." I try to close the calendar out, and my computer suddenly goes black, then powers down with a weird cracking sound.

Fantastic.

Jeremy sighs beside me, and moves to help me try to restart the computer.

"I think it's fried." He tells me after a very long silence and lots of inspection on his part.

I groan and lean back in my chair, accidentally tipping far enough back that I nearly lose my balance.

This day just couldn't get any better.

 

 

Eric laughs when I show him my ID photo, so hard that he nearly drops his cup of coffee.

I scowl at him.

His smile is wide, and his eyebrows are raised.

"Wow, you look hideous."

"Eric!" I ball my hands into fists. It's not my fault the guy took the photo second before I had to sneeze.

"We'll go get another one tomorrow. I know the guy that does them." He hands me back the offensive ID card, and brushes my bangs out of my eyes. "It's ok. I still think you're pretty."

It's a good thing he looks handsome today, otherwise I might have just murdered him with pieces from the broken toaster and broken computer.

 

 

Four sits next to me at this large around table, and he slides a packet at me.

"Here's the curriculum for the initiates. It's broken down into three basic stages, and each stage has several objectives that have to be completed before they can continue on. They are ranked in order of how well they do while completing each objective." He shows me the outlines for each section, followed by score sheets, and suggested training activities.

I wrinkle my nose at the page that is a strict score guideline. It looks rather cut throat, and Four notices the look on my face.

"It doesn't look pleasant, I know. But it helps weed out the weakest initiates. You'll be able to tell right away." He smiles at me. "You can always tell who made a mistake in coming here."

"Did you think I made a mistake when I picked Dauntless?" I ask him, thinking back to my first day in Dauntless. It seems so long ago that I took that leap off the roof, my pink dress tangling around my legs as soon as I hit the net. I can remember the glares of the boys who'd followed after me; most of them dismissing me before we'd even started the training. Four shakes his head, and I can't help but wonder if Eric thought that.

"No, I thought you'd make it. I just didn't think having Eric train you was the way to go, but it all worked out in the end." He trails off, and his stare falls to the paper. "At what point during your training with him did you find yourself more than just…trainer and initiate?" His voice is full of thinly veiled curiosity.

It's the first time Four has really asked me about my relationship with Eric, rather than just dismiss it or voice his disapproval. I think hard for a minute, and chose my words carefully.

"I'm not sure. There was just one day when I started to really enjoy being around him, and I felt like he started to feel the same."

Four stares in disbelief. "I've never seen Eric enjoy being around anyone."

I shrug, and turn the page in the packet over. "He's different around me I guess."

Four nods, and fidgets in his seat. "I guess. And you're ok with him. And how he is?"

"What do you mean how he is?" I ask. I stare at Four and shove my bangs out of my eyes. Four picks up on my change in attitude instantly and looks sheepish.

"He's just not always…nice. He was rather unpleasant when we went through initiation together, and he's made some really cruel decisions during his time here as a leader." He stares somewhere above me. "I mean, not as of lately. He seems less angry not being forced to oversee the training classes."

I take his words in, and I realize that I simply don't care. "I'm sure we've all made some decisions we aren't proud of Four."

Four stares at me before he speaks. "Yeah but Eric wasn't bothered by them. He just thought they were the right decisions to make. It's what I've never liked about him."

I'm slightly started by his admission, and I have to say I'm relieved to hear Four's words. I've never really put too much thought into their mutual dislike of each other, but it makes sense now. Down to his very core, Four is just very honestly good. He has no real ill will towards anyone except Eric, and it seems to stem for their difference in ideals. Eric seems to take a more militant approach to things. He prefers things to be black and white, with no room for questions. He dislikes when things aren't done his way, and I can hardly imagine him and Four training a class together.

"Maybe it's what he's always known." I tell Four and I skim down the page. I stop when I get to the section about initiate discipline.

"Maybe." Four mutters. He points to the paragraph I'm looking at. "This will be up to your discretion. For the most part, we stay out of things. Initiates are bound to not get along. There are the normal arguments and disagreements, and tensions start to run high as soon as they realize they're pitted against each other. If the need arises, you and I will step in and appropriately handle the situation."

He pauses and points to a smaller section below it. "Dauntless does not tolerate a few things. Assault, physical or sexual is usually handled by myself or Max. There is no place for that here. Attempts on others' lives are grounds for expulsion. There has to be adequate proof, but we don't take the accusation lightly. We're here to find the best soldiers, but they have to be here with the right intentions."

Four finishes his sentence and I nod. "Does it happen often?"

He shakes his head. "Not especially. But take your situation for example. Having you in with an all male class was bound to be a disaster. At some point the tension would have driven someone to act out in an unfavorable way. That's why we separated you."

I turn to the last page, and I stare at the blocks for training times. It seems like Eric pretty much made up his own schedule; the suggested one runs from eight in the morning until six at night. There is no assigned reading, and no mention of additional weight training.

"I think it will be fun."

"Me too. I think it'll be nice to have a new face in the room with me." Four smiles at me, and I haven't seen him smile this honestly since the first day he called my name.

 

 

 

Karl stops me in the hallway on Tuesday, and I'm surprised when he thanks me repeatedly.

"I don't think I would have gotten the position if not for you." He tells me, beaming proudly. "I can't thank you enough Everly." He stops as we near the Pitt. "I know I was kind of a dick to you the past few months. I just didn't know you and Eric were that serious. I'm really sorry. I mean, I seriously thought Eric hated me, and my chances of getting it were zero."

I must look confused, because he suddenly squints at me. "You know, my promotion. To patrol leader? Eric announced it today."

I force a smile onto my face, but I can't help the tiny bit of fear that runs up my spine.

 

"Won't that put Karl right on Jeanine's radar?" I'm seated atop of Eric's lap, and he's trying very hard to ignore me.

He raises his eyebrow in mock annoyance, and aims the remote at the television on his wall. "I thought you wanted to watch this movie." He tries to shift around me, but I've got him right where I want him.

"Don't ignore my question." I can hear the movie starting, and I resist the urge to turn around and focus on the screen. Eric had been holding out on me. He had the movies that accompanied the books I'd been reading, and he'd conveniently failed to mention that little fact. I'd found them the other day, and he'd practically groaned when I told him I wanted to watch them. He'd rather unenthusiastically informed me the movies were long, really long.

"Your movie is starting." He points out, and he moves to shove me off his lap, but it's half hearted. I know deep down if he really wanted to, he'd simply push me off and to the side.

I shake my head at him. "I don't want him to get hurt, Eric."

He rolls his eyes and glares up at me. "He won't. That's why I put him there. He'll be too busy with his new positon to be too focused on anything else. Plus Jeanine's been off track lately."

I chew my lip. "Why?"

Eric moves to brush my hair out of my eyes. "She's had a few setbacks with her serums."

I narrow my eyes. "The factionless man?"

He doesn't answer, but he sighs and I know it means yes.

"Why did he come up to Dauntless?" I ask.

Eric shrugs, and tugs the band out of my bun. My hair falls out of it messily; I put it up damp this morning, and now it hangs half wavy and half homeless looking. I try to ignore the urge to brush it out. I've got him right where I want him, and I can't waste this opportunity.

"I think someone sent him up there. But I can't figure out why." He's frowning now, and he attempts to distract me. "Oh look, there's a flying motorcycle. I bet you didn't see any of those in Amity."

"You don't have any of those in Dauntless and stop trying to distract me." I inform him, and I squirm slightly, until his hands move down to my waist.

"Oh, I'm distracting?' He leers at me now, and his lips curl upwards. I jump at his newly relaxed state.

"Eric did you tell Arlene you wanted to have a baby with me?" I watch as his eyes widen a fraction, and I can tell I've caught him off guard. I feel slightly triumphant. Eric is always on alert, always aware and one step ahead of everyone else. Except for this second.

He stares up at me for a second before he scowls. "That's it. You aren't allowed to be on top of me anymore." He goes to move me and this time I protest loudly.

"Wait! No! What are you talking about?" I try my best to look innocent.

"Every time you want to ask me something, something you know that I won't want to answer or I'm not going to answer, you crawl into my lap and bat your eyelashes at me and it's not working this time." His voice is unamused and he easily tightens his grip to move me.

"I thought you liked me on top." I tell him sweetly. He glowers at me, and this time he none too gently knocks me off his lap and I wind up beside him.

"Well for now on you get to be on bottom." Eric informs me. He adjusts himself back against the bed and crosses his arms across his chest. His stare is fixed on the screen on the wall.

"Ok, but did you? Tell Arlene that?' I prod at him, and I wait for his response. He'll either explode like last time, or he'll answer my question.

To my surprise, it's the latter.

"I didn't say that I wanted to have a baby." He snaps, and his voice has petulant tone to it. "I didn't answer her question and she interpreted it her own way."

"So you told her by not telling her." I deduct, wondering if Dauntless offers any careers as a detective. I'm starting to feel cut out for solving all sorts of mysteries around here.

"No." He tells me shortly. "That's not what I said."

I stare at him and he scowls at me, his jaw tensing. "We aren't talking about this anymore."

"But wait!" I protest and he narrows his eyes and shakes his head with purpose.

"No. And it hasn't even been two and a half weeks. So no more questions, Amity."

It's my turn to cross my arms and I sulk beside him. "That's really mean." I resort to desperate measures here. I watch as his nostrils flare and his stare turns downright devious.

"It's hardly mean. Mean would be me telling you that Dumbledore dies in the sixth book."

My jaw drops open and Eric smiles smugly. "Now watch your movie."


	23. The Birthday Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your patience! I got hella sick this weekend (thanks darling little children) and this got pushed back further than planned. 
> 
> Enjoy, Happy Sunday, and thank you all for being so awesome :D

Eric's birthday falls on the first Friday I am off and I find out purely on accident.

Rylan lets it slip. He's stopped by to drop off some papers for Eric, and he hesitates in the entryway of the kitchen as though he very badly wants to tell me something.

"Everything ok?" I ask him. I set the papers down, noticing that they are satellite print outs. They map certain more rural areas, and during my quick glance, I can spy the large lake that resides in Amity. Eric was off today too, but Max had started e-mailing him around ten, and he'd turned cranky rather quickly. He stormed out saying he'd be back in a few hours, but now it was nearly one and he still wasn't back.

Rylan smiles and shrugs. "Yeah, just seeing what you guys are up to tonight. Thought maybe you'd convinced him to go out and celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" I look up at him curiously.

"Eric's birthday." He looks at me like I'm an idiot. I feel slightly embarrassed that I had no idea it was Eric's birthday, but then again, Eric isn't the most open person.

"I didn't know." I shrug at Rylan and shove my bangs aside. "Do you guys normally do something for him?" I wonder if they three of them have some sort of celebration planned. Maybe a guy's night of drinking, or punching each other or shooting things. But Rylan shakes his head and looks guilty.

"We uh never celebrate his birthday. He hates it."

"Why would anyone hate their birthday?" I finish putting the dishes away and glance down at the counter. Personally, I loved birthdays. In Amity it meant a day off from all responsibilities, and someone usually made a sweet dessert and there was probably a big dinner in your honor. It was the only part of Amity I'd actually enjoyed.

Rylan shrugs again and I resist the urge to kick him. "Helpful." I mutter at him. I put my hands on my hips and sigh. "I guess I should get him something. Or do something."

Finding a gift for Eric will be harder than any sort of training class in Dauntless. In fact I'd almost rather attend another training class all over again because Eric has very specific tastes and seems to like very few things. He has enough books and movies, he has a wardrobe of black and blacker clothing, and he's not one for stupid trinkets or novelty gifts.

"Good luck with that." Rylan tells me, and I frown.

"Help me think of something." I plead to him, and his eyes widen. "You have to know something that he would like."

Rylan looks at me, and his face is suddenly very serious. "Everly, I think out of anyone in Dauntless, you are the only one who would know what he'd like."

 

 

Seeing as how Rylan was of no help, I decide to have Eric meet me for dinner and drinks. He answers my phone call immediately, and while he sounds mildly suspicious and slightly distracted, he agrees to meet me at six at Clyde's. For a moment I feel hot thinking about the last time I was there, and I say goodbye quickly before Eric can make any sort of smart remark.

I spend my next free hour shopping around with Christina, and I'm grateful for her help. We browse through all sorts of items in the stores; and I finally settle on nothing more than a card. Eric has everything he could want, but halfway through the store I have an idea.

Christina grins when I tell her, and after my one simple purchase we head back to the apartment.

 

 

Six o'clock comes much faster than I'm prepared for. Christina helps me fix my hair and get dressed, and by the time I need to leave, I'm already a few minutes behind. I hug her goodbye and make my way to Clyde's, knowing full well Eric will be there already.

The bar is crowded as ever; people are milling around cheerfully catching up after a long week, and the noise seems to echo in the small space. I walk past a few of the small tables, ignoring the weird stares from a few select people. I keep my head straight and I quickly scan the bar.

For once I see Eric before he sees me.

He's frowning at his tablet, his shoulders tensed up and his eyebrows angled inwards. He's still dressed in the same casual outfit from earlier- a dark black button down shirt and dark jeans, and I watch as he stretches his head to the side. His wedding band gleams in the low light of the lanterns, and I can't help the pleasant way my chest tightens when I see him.

He looks handsome and dreamy, even with the scowl on his face.

He glances up suddenly; as though he can feel my stare on him and his eyes look me up and down, narrowing at the sight of me. I make my way through the crowded bar and slide into the booth across from him. His expression is hard to read; he looks slightly pissed off and slightly amused.

I slide him the envelope and sit back against the cool leather of the booth.

"Happy Birthday." I tell him. His eyes snap to mine, suddenly dark and irritated.

"Is that what why we're here?" He raises his eyebrow before glancing down at the card in his hands. He easily rips the envelope open, and he frowns when he reads it. He doesn't say anything, but his lips purse together in a fine line.

My stomach sinks. Maybe this was a bad idea. He doesn't really look happy at all, and he sighs before he sets the card down.

"Come here." He motions to the side of the booth he's sitting on, and I slide out and over to him. He puts his arm around me, and yanks me close to him until there is no space between us. "You didn't have to do anything. I've never bothered to celebrate my birthday before." He informs me, and the waitress appears, setting two drinks down in front of us. His is dark and strong, and mine looks fizzy. I wonder what he ordered me.

"I'll be back to take your order." The waitress tells us and she continues on to the next table. I take a sip of my drink, discovering he's ordered me a coke. I scowl at him and he smirks.

"Why don't you celebrate your birthday?" I stare at the fizzing bubbles in my drink and lean in to him. He smells good, like soap and Eric and our sheets. "Birthdays are the best days." I try to glance up at him, but the angle is too awkward. He takes a long sip of his drink and sighs.

"Just never have. It's just another day, Everly."

It's my turn to frown, and I feel like an idiot. I suddenly wonder why Rylan even bothered to tell me. I sip my drink quietly, and stare at the menu in front of Eric as though I'll be tested on it when the waitress returns.

"I'm glad I'm celebrating it with you, though." Eric's words sound gravely, as though he's pulled them up from deep inside him. He rests his head against mine for a minute before he sighs heavily. He finds the ends of my hair and pulls on them, twisting it around his finger for a moment. He then bends forward, and his lips graze my ear.

I can't help but shiver, and I'm taken back to the first moment he ever spoke to me like this, letting his mouth graze my ear as I punched at the bags in the training room.

"Nice dress, Amity."

I smile as the waitress approaches. My pink dress, the very same one I wore the first day I ever met Eric, stands out in the bar; the light pink color bright against Eric's black shirt.

 

 

He takes the dress off roughly, shoving the straps down and pulling it up over my head.

Eric's eyes are dark, bleeding back as he tears the fabric aside, only this time he doesn't look quite so disgusted at the material.

"I still remember how much you hated this dress." I tease him. I reach for him and he smirks.

"I didn't hate your dress." He informs me as I unbutton his shirt. He looks down at me, and he suddenly looks rather smug. "In fact, I thought it would look rather nice on my floor."

I can't help but laugh at his words, and he easily shrugs out of his undershirt. Its mere seconds before he kisses me, fisting my hair in his hands and walking me until my legs hit the bed.

"Happy Birthday Eric." I tell him, mostly against his lips. He grins as he pushes me backwards, completely forgetting that he hates his birthday.

 

 

I wake up with Eric on top of me, his heavy limbs strewn across me, and his head on my chest.

He's still sound asleep, and I stare down at the top of his head. I take in the wavy pattern of his hair, and the way the muscles in his back expand and contract with each breath.

I'm fairly certain, despite the fact that he pulled my hair and bit my neck as he came against me, that Eric accidentally almost made love to me last night, and I have a feeling he won't like that fact very well.

 

 

The weekend is gone before I know it.

We barely left Eric's bed for the past few days, and by the time Monday morning breaks, Eric has informed me that he changed his mind. Turns out he rather liked celebrating his birthday weekend.

His birthday weekend is a thing now, and I grin into his neck, wishing the alarm clock would stop ringing.

 

 

Everything feels good on Monday, but I should have known better.

By the time the day comes for my visit to Amity, Eric is barely speaking to me. He's been dangerously quiet; his head is buried in his laptop and he's furiously typing away, not even bothering to look up when I stand next to him. I can't help but feel awkward. I know he doesn't want me to go, but I can't directly disobey Max. In typical Eric fashion, he isn't handling it very well.

He finally raises his eyes to me, and he stares for a moment before he blinks at me in displeasure.

"Are you leaving?" He asks me very flatly, and I watch as the band on his finger seems to catch the light. He looks larger than normal, his angry presence seeming to fill the living room.

I nod and smile at him, trying to appear like I'm not bothered by the fact that he's acting like a bratty child. "I'll be back this afternoon."

The trip is only supposed to take a few hours. Max will introduce Jeremy and I, we're to take a quick tour of Amity, locate and map out some new security points, and discuss new procedures with Johanna over lunch. I'll be home before Eric is normally done for the day, and I had hoped we could eat dinner and watch a movie tonight.

Ever since Eric had slipped the ring on my finger, there was a different level of seriousness between us. While it had always been very clear that anything relating to me was part of Eric's territory, the rings on our fingers only served to intensify the fact.

But today I'm heading out without him, back to the one place he'd prefer I never step foot again.

I want to tell him he's being ridiculous, if one could ever say that to his face. I have no desire to be associated with Amity, and every desire to return home to him. I don't want to plow fields or pick flowers, and I certainly don't want to spend my day longing for something else. Or someone else, if that's what Eric thinks. Landon holds no interest to me, on any level. He had such little faith in me that it was shocking. I can still recall his mocking words, his honest plea that I return back to Amity because I wasn't good enough for Dauntless.

I want to tell Eric all of this, but I can't.

He's standing before me, his stare annoyed and tight, and the next thing I know he's got his hands woven through my hair, and his mouth is harshly against mine. He lets me go before I'm ready, his kiss almost ferocious, and my heart is beating wildly in my chest. I watch as his chest heaves in a mix of anger and frustration, and he sets his jaw tightly as he says goodbye.

"Just remember you're my wife and you live here."

Eric's words are a hissed threat, but the underlying meaning in them rings out loud and clear.

 

 

It is still cold out, and Amity looks scarce.

We arrive shortly before ten. I was surprised to find we were driving in one of the Dauntless trucks; large oversized military vehicles with quite the menacing presence. Jeremy had offered to sit in back, and he'd spent most of the drive going over a small set of notes he'd brought along with them. I hadn't bothered to bring anything. Max had given us a whole slew of papers that he'd worked on and the spiel was the same one he'd been preaching all week.

New security cameras would be in installed, new patrols would be added to the fences, new technology would be updated in all factions. New monitors were going up in the fields, and Amity would also be required to submit any incident reports that occurred.

Apparently, in all their years, Amity had sent in exactly zero accident or injury reports. For some reason this was a red flag for Jeanine, and she was convinced they were covering something up. I had tried very hard not to roll my eyes are this mention. Amity was hardly covering anything up. In all my years of living there I never saw anyone panic about anything. Maybe they were just high off of peace serum, but any injury anyone obtained could easily be taken care of by themselves, and rarely would they seek treatment outside of Amity.

I slide out from the front seat and my boots crunch on the dry leaves as we make our way through the oddly quiet Amity compound. We pass through the long row of stables, and I pause for a fraction of a second to stop and pet one of the large white horses in the stall. He nuzzles my hand gently, and for a second, I fall behind Max and Jeremy. I can hear them ascending the wooden stairs, their boots heavy on the creaky steps. I stroke the horses mane one more time before I turn to leave, and my stomach sinks when I realize there is a man standing in next to me.

Landon.

Of course.

He looks the same; his long brown hair is looped back into a messier lower bun, and his beard has been trimmed slightly. He's dressed in a pair of dark brown pants, slightly more fitted and tapered into the heavy work boots, and his shirt is unbuttoned a few buttons too many for this cold weather.

"Everly."

He says my name as though it is disgusting; some sort of vile word that is painful to utter. His stare is fixed on my finger, still in the horse's mane. My ring seems embarrassingly large under Landon's stare.

"I hear congratulations are in order." Landon cocks his head to the side, and gone is the soft gentle man that I'd once spent my nights with. He looks dangerous in this moment, as though there is enough long pent up aggression and anger in this man for him to harm me.

Maybe Eric was right to tell me not to come back here.

Landon takes a step closer to me, his boots snapping over rough hay and dirt before he's right in front of me.

"I see you managed to find a way to stay in Dauntless."

I stare up at him and I resist the urge to smash my fist into his face. The implication that I'd married Eric simply to secure my place is Dauntless is ridiculous. More ironic than the fact that Eric married me to keep me in Dauntless. If only Landon knew that little bit of information. But he doesn't, and his disapproving stare tells me he doesn't think very highly of the situation.

"I passed the initiation, but thank you Landon." I try to keep my voice even. I don't want to give him an inkling of any idea that he could possibly get to me. He's doing nothing more than baiting me, waiting for me to snap at him and prove just how different I am.

"And Eric." Landon's glare turns darker now as he says his name. "What a catch for you. Your very own personal sociopath." His words are sharp and hard, and I straighten my spine. "You know he's pretty much leading the hunt for Jeanine. He does whatever she tells him to. Funny how you think you'll be exempt from her plans."

"What plans are you talking about?" I try to sound snotty, like I'm well in the know and Landon is simply uneducated in the matter. But he grins widely, his eyes hardening.

"Oh, did Eric not tell his little wife any of what he does as the leader of Dauntless?" He says the words mockingly before he continues. "Does he only talk to you while he's fucking you and thinking of someone prettier? Because I bet he didn't tell you that if Jeanine orders him to get rid of you, he would." Landon is in front of me now, and reaches for me, his dirty fingers grasping around my arm."You better be careful, Everly. He's not exactly the prince you think you he is."

I shove him away from me.

He stumbles back for a second, and he grins wildly, his smile reminding me of the man on the roof.

"You have no idea what you are talking about. Eric wouldn't do that to me, and you're just a bitter asshole that I didn't stay here with you. Sorry I don't want to spend my life smelling like horse shit." The words spew from my mouth quickly, and I move to head past him. I need to find Max and Jeremy. My absence will now be noticeable, and that's the last thing I want.

Landon glares at me and narrows his eyes. "Don't say I didn't warn you." His words sound threatening, and I shrug him off and head upstairs. Max and Jeremy are standing around chatting idly, and Johanna is smiling as I make my way over to them.

I try to bite back the feeling of panic that is running through me. While I don't believe Landon's words for a minute, my nerves feel burnt and raw. I don't know what hunt Eric would be sent on, but I do know that he promised to keep me safe.

I spend the rest of the meeting not hearing a word Johanna is saying. I'm lucky Jeremy brought his notecards. He notices my shaky hands and he slides me one that has a bullet point for security cameras on the fences. When I make my point, trying not to sound like I'm reading the card, Johanna nods easily, and I know she's picked up on my distractedness.

All I can think of is how Landon seems to know just a little bit too much.

 

 

My question is answered during lunch when Sophia and Courtney corner me.

Lunch is a rather lack luster affair. It's too cold for most of the crops to be in full bloom, and Amity is using up some of its winter resources. I don't mind it but I spent years eating it. Jeremy looks confused at the mostly vegetarian lunch, and Max still looks hungry even after we finish eating.

I'm walking my plate back to the kitchen when Sophia and Courtney grab my arm, pulling me away from the crowd.

"We need to talk." Courtney whispers, and I nod my head. I hand off my plate to some a man cheerfully making his way back towards the dome, and I follow after the two of them. We walk a good distance from the main compound, slipping behind the buildings and out to a small woodsy area. They glance both ways before making their way into the woods and I follow behind them without question.

I know these woods well.

I walk along the worn path quickly, knowing they are heading to a small clearing next to a stream. Growing up we thought this was a secret place to get away. We'd spend hours sitting on the rocks, sunning ourselves and sharing secrets. The area is familiar, but the girls don't stop where I think they will. They push on until we are deeper in the woods, and I start to feel the tiniest bit lost.

"Guys, where are we going?"

Neither of them answers, and my stomach is in knots by the time we stop.

We come to the edge of a cliff, the edge of it breaking off abruptly. It gives way a breathtaking view of Amity, but Sophia and Courtney stay far back from it.

Sophia stares at me for a moment before she turns to Courtney with a pleading look on her face. Courtney nods at her, and I grow impatient.

"What is going on?" I put my hands on my hips. "Is something wrong?"

Courtney nods. "Something's wrong with Landon. He's been acting really weird lately."

I feel myself frown, and I sincerely hope this isn't a halfhearted attempt to get me to stay here for a few days. While impossible in itself, I have no desire to stay here longer than I have to.

"He's been heading out. Out to these meetings. The other day Paul caught him walking along the outskirts of the fields, looking at the irrigation heads. He was looking for something, but not something good." Courtney stops and pulls at the sleeves on her sweater. "I'm explaining it horribly, but someone's been messing around with the water supply."

I stare at her for a second. Before I can answer, Sophia interrupts.

"We followed him. The other night. He went to this place not too far away from here and he met these guys and they talked for a long time about preserving our community." She pauses then looks at Courtney. "There were some men from Dauntless there too. We asked one of them if Eric was here, but he just looked mad."

"Who was it?" I ask her. My brain is putting this all together, and I feel like I'm really close to connecting the dots.

"He had brown hair. He didn't have anything on his neck like Eric does." Sophia looks at me earnestly. "But they're planning to attack Jeanine."

"Did they just tell you that?" I ask her. She bites her lips and nods again. "Landon saw us. We told him we wanted to help, and he let us stay. The men there want to kill Jeanine. They say she's going to put something in our water and we can't let her do that."

For a moment, my blood feels sticky and hot.

Sophia speaks again, this time her voice sounds nervous. "They're going to attack anyone who's been working with her. But I don't think Landon is doing it just to make sure no one messes with our water. He said he had personal reasons for being involved."

Courtney looks at me, and then her glaze falls to the ground. "He said Eric's in charge of the project."

 

 

The ride back to Dauntless is nearly silent on my part.

Jeremy sits up front with Max, and the two of them chat idly about the meeting. Max is pleased with how it went. Johanna easily agreed to security measure Max wanted, but I could tell by the way she looked at him that her words weren't true. Everything was unraveling right in front of me, and I felt like I was drowning in it.

She was helping the factionless prepare for their battle, and this was an easy way to keep her cover. She'd let them install the cameras, she'd let them patrol the fences and she'd let them think she was all for it. But she'd also let the cameras mysteriously fail, and she'd let the guards see what they wanted to see. I saw it all over her face, her expression flicking to mine ever so slightly as Max talked.

She knew what was going on, and for the first time since I'd know her- she was taking action.

I doubted this was a group decision from Amity. They would have voted to stay out of everything. To keep Jeanine's watchful eye out of their fields, to remain neutral in the fight against the factionless verse Jeanine.

I keep my mouth shut though. I just followed Max out obediently, my head swimming with questions.

All I can think of it is that I will find Eric and I will make him talk.

 

 

It's nearly nightfall by the time we reach Dauntless. I stop at the edge of the compound and watch the sunset bleed before me. The clouds streak the sky, mixing with the darkening colors, and from this angle I can see the start of the twinkling stars.

I allow myself a second to stare at them, making one quiet wish a particular blinking one, and I head below ground. I bid farewell to Max and Jeremy, and my muscles suddenly ache with effort of clomping through the woods in Amity. I want nothing more than to take a shower and sink into bed, but I know I won't be able to sleep until I've talked with Eric.

Unfortunately for me he's nowhere to be found. The apartment is dark and quiet, and I frown at the emptiness. Maybe he didn't expect me back so early or so late, but whatever the case may be, he isn't' there.

 

 

I had decided to make my way down to the cafeteria in search of some sort of dinner when I bumped into Tris. She smiled widely when she saw me, her whole face lighting up.

"I feel like I haven't seen in you in forever." Her smile is warm, and she takes my arm pulling me along with her. "How was Amity?"

"It was interesting. I was hoping to find Eric so I could talk to him about it, but I have no idea where he is." I tell her. We walk along easily until we stop at the elevators. Tris pushes the call button, and I pull my arms around myself. Despite my oversized sweater and leggings I've changed into, I'm still cold.

"He's in the control room. They're watching a few of the test results. They like to predict who they think will actually end up coming here."

I frown at the invasion of privacy, and something pricks at my neck. "Are they allowed to do that?" I ask her. The thought makes me a little nervous, and I wonder if anyone watched my own test results. I feel like Eric would have mentioned that little fact. But the first time I met Eric, it was very clear he had no idea who I was. Tris shakes her head, noticing my expression.

"They only watch the ones that come back with a Dauntless result. Technically, I don't think they are allowed to watch any of the footage, but you know Eric doesn't exactly listen to the rules." She says the words lightly, and I try to shake off the edginess that I feel. I know once I talk with Eric I'll feel better, but until then, I can't help but shake this uneasiness.

We arrive at the control room, and Tris swipes her keycard at the doors open. I could have used my own, but I get the feeling she just came from work. I follow her across the room, and my eyes land on Eric. He's leaning back in a chair, watching as the kid on the screen jerks awake and there is a low murmur as the lady reads his test result. Jason and Rylan look up as we approach them, and Jason nudges Eric.

His eyes find mine, and if he were capable of feeling guilty, that would be the expression that crosses his face. He pushes the chair back and stands up, and his face quickly changes into its normal bored stare.

"How was Amity, Amity?" He steps close to me, and his hands find my waist, pulling me closer to him. I shake my head, and rise up on my toes until I'm close enough that only hear can hear me.

"I need to talk to you. Alone."

He nods and looks unsurprised. He turns back to his friends, and nods curtly. "I'll see you both tomorrow." They nod at quickly say goodbye, turning back to their monitors. I thank Tris, and Eric's hand finds mine as we make our way out of the control room.

"Did you eat dinner?" He asks, and I shake my head. My brain is swirling now, more uneasy than ever. He stares at me for a moment. "Ok." His words are short, and I follow after him, hand in hand, until we reach the cafeteria. It's mostly deserted, and we quickly find a table. Eric returns with two plates, and I stare at the food in front of me.

"You alright?" He asks me. He slides close to me, his thigh warm against my own and I shake my head.

"I saw Landon." I start. He clenches his jaw tightly, and I watch as his eyes seem to narrow at the mere mention of Landon's name. "He just kept talking about how I didn't know who you really are, and how you are apparently would get rid of me if need be."

"I believe I've made you aware of my desire to keep you safe." Eric states flatly. I sigh, slumping forward against the table. This might not be a good idea. I push the chicken around my plate before I stare up at him.

"I know that." I tell him. He looks mad, perhaps unconvinced at my statement. I take a second to gather my thoughts before I ask him the most important question. "Then Courtney and Sophia said they went to a meeting with and there are people planning to kill Jeanine. The said they'll kill anyone working for her and her projects."

Eric shrugs, looking unconcerned. "She's a major target, obviously. Any one in any of positon of power is a target. You'll become a target yourself as soon as you become a leader."

His words send a chill down my spine. "They also said that you were in charge of Jeanine's project."

Eric exhales sharply and glances around for a brief second. "I am. You know that. I told you that."

I nod, biting my lip. "Eric did you watch my results?"

For one heart stopping moment, I think he won't answer. He avoids my stare; instead he grits his teeth and looks somewhere across the room. It takes him a long time to answer, and when he does, my heart sinks.

"No."

"Why?" I ask him, desperately hoping the answer isn't what I think it is.

He swallows thickly. "I only have access to those who received Dauntless as one hundred percent of their test results. Your results were also positive for Amity, but much less so."

I shake my head. "That can't be. I never wanted to stay in Amity."

It's his turn to shake his head, and he looks pissed off. "I told you, a lot of time people retain loyalty to their faction of origin. It's an unconscious result, and it usually means nothing. Your result was strong enough to show up Amity but weak enough that it was not the main result. Everyone receives the factional result that is strongest suited for them. It's been happening more and more that the results are not one hundred percent."

I stare at him, and the horrifying question is out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"And Jeanine thinks anyone who receives a result less than one hundred percent of the faction is a traitor, right?"

This time, Eric's shoulders tense up, and he looks downright miserable as he nods his head yes.


	24. Love and Other Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! No one is sick and Eric and Everly return! Enjoy enjoy! This chapter ends on a note that will probably piss everyone off, but it's a necessary evil ;)
> 
> Also, thank you so much to Jacqueline for editing this chapter for me! You are the best :)

His hands are in my hair, holding me in place beneath him, as he groans into my ear.

"Everly."

It's my name, always my name, as he keeps me pinned beneath him. The muscle of his bicep is pulled taut on either side of my head and his whole body hard against mine. I dig my nails into his back, wondering just when this became Eric's favorite position for us to be in. Was it after I stared up at him in horror, knowing full well that I fell on the list of people he'd eventually have to hunt down? Was it after he'd yanked me up from the cafeteria table, nearly dragging me down the hallways like some sort of prehistoric caveman? Or was it after he'd hissed at me, his voice low and dark that no one would ever take me from him?

I don't have the answer to any of these things, but someday I will.

 

 

Four blinks at me, looking oddly pleased as we stand together in the initiate sleeping quarters.

The room is empty and silent, giving way to a slightly creepy atmosphere. I take in the cavernous grey walls and the rows of neatly made up beds. I try to imagine sleeping here with a group of strangers that were all vying for their own survival. Sleeping amongst those that would easily spill blood in order to get ahead.

I was more than lucky to have Eric. To have been under his training and away from all of this.

I frown as I stare at the beds, wondering if any of it will matter when Jeanine finally decides that my name will be next on her list.

"You doing okay over there?" Four asks me. He makes his way down a row of beds and comes to a stop next to me, handing me a stack of papers. The training schedule is printed on it and it tells me I have a month to learn the ropes of how to train the class. The thought of leading an entire group of impressionable minds through the training process is immense. Max has a lot of faith in me to assign me to this position.

"How many usually choose Dauntless?" I ask him.

He comes to a halt beside me and places his hands on his hips. The dark leather of his jacket looks rich in this low lighting, but I can tell he's had it for a while. "It varies. Maybe sixty all together. Thirty from Dauntless and thirty from other factions. We take the top fifteen from each class."

"What about those who don't make it? Do they really have to become factionless?" I stare at him, wrapping my arms around myself. This room is somehow colder than all of Dauntless combined.

I watch Four frown. "Unfortunately yes." He pauses for a second before looking right at me. "I've heard that Amity allows some of theirs to come back."

I shrug. "I've never really seen anyone come back." My words are true; in all my years in Amity I never once saw anyone return after choosing another faction. But then again, not many left Amity. I suppose someone could slip back in easily though. We'd always had a rather large population and the work in the fields was never ending. Someone could blend in without too much effort.

I stare at Four for a second. Landon had said Johanna would let me come back. I couldn't be the first person she'd let back in. I suddenly wonder if those I had grown up with were not actual members of Amity, but those who had failed to make it in other factions.

Four frowns. "Are you sure? Amity would be a very easy place for someone to hide out in."

I get what he's implying and I don't have a good answer for him. "I never really paid attention I guess."

I glance down at the papers in my hand and shuffle until I reach the final page. There is a list of contact information for the instructors. Four's name and email is listed, along with my own. Beneath mine is Eric's and I raise an eyebrow at Four.

"Eric is helping with the training?"

Four looks down and his face changes to an expression of surprise. "Not that I'm aware of."

I make a mental note to ask Eric just when he was planning on finding time to help train the initiates, and why he would even want to. He'd made it pretty clear he wasn't thrilled with over seeing them. Seeing Eric's name reminds me of something that's been on my mind.

"Four, do you know why the Factionless want to kill Jeanine?" Other than the obvious reasons. "Why are they being trained to for battle?"

I've been having a hard time getting anything more out of Eric. He told me he'd keep me safe, and that Jeanine had little interest in me. He'd explained that she mostly wanted those who fell under a higher percentage of Divergence, those who received a higher score for multiple factions and lesser main results. He'd told me all this while he stood between my legs, pulling his shirt off over his head.

My eyes had fallen somewhere on his abs and the way they seemed deeply etched into his skin. I reached out for him, his distraction working just the way he'd planned it.

Now my eyes fall back to Four who's staring at me intensely. "You haven't figured it out yet? They want the city. They want to take her down and have their chance at a normal life again. I think that's all anyone wants."

He takes a step closer to me and his whole face seems to darken. A tiny burst of fear runs through me. I shouldn't be afraid of Four. He's never done anything to give me a reason to think he might hurt me, but he suddenly looks vicious.

"Eric hasn't told you because he doesn't agree with it. He thinks they should stay where they are. That they deserve their lives. He hasn't told you because you'll be one of them soon, as soon as Jeanine puts her plan into action. She knows how much he's told you."

Horror blooms through me, hot and fast.

Four looks at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry Everly. I never would have sold you out like that."

 

I wake up with a start, my heart racing uncontrollably.

The room is dark and cold. Eric is sound asleep beside me, his arm slung over my stomach and his breathing slow and deep. I press the heel of my palms into my eyes until swirls of color burst in front of them. It was just a dream, just my brain trying to make sense of everything that's gone on with the little information I have. I shove Eric's arm off me and he barely moves. I stare at the mazelike pattern on his forearm and try to stop the teary feeling that's suddenly burning behind my eyes.

I can't help but wonder if Eric agrees with Jeanine. Does he think that those who didn't receive a true result on their aptitude test should be taken out? Myself included? I think that he might have agreed with it in the beginning. He likes things nice and orderly, everything falling into place with little questioning. But I'm starting to think none of us fit into these neat little boxes we're expected to and he's trying to find a way around it.

I wonder how close the Factionless are to killing Jeanine. Are they well trained enough? Are they willing to kill her? Would I be willing to kill her? That thought pops into my mind with wild abandon. If Jeanine didn't exist in this world, if her nasty ideas weren't being pressed into the minds of those forced to carry them out, Eric and I could exist happily. I wouldn't be sitting in bed next to him, trying to figure out whose side he was on.

Deep down I think I know the answer, but I don't want to believe it. There would be a day when Jeanine asked too much of him. It would be my name she told him and the decision wouldn't be his to make.

I make it to the bathroom before I start crying.

I don't want Eric to the bad guy behind all this. I don't want him to carry out Jeanine's plan, and I don't want to find out that he's the one who'll ultimately be responsible for the death of others.

I let myself ugly cry for a few minutes. The tears come easily, months of unconscious frustration built up, enough tense moments that I've carried around on my shoulders all working their way out as I stand there, sniffling in Eric's cold bathroom. I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. When the morning comes, I'll ask Eric what side he's on. I'll make him tell me or I'll…

I don't have any idea what I'll do. There's nowhere for me to go. The idea of going back to Amity makes my skin crawl and my chest aches at the thought of leaving Eric. I screw my eyes shut and wipe at my nose.

"What are you doing?"

I open my eyes at Eric's low voice. He's standing beside me in his boxers, his hair rumpled and his eyes sleepy. He rubs at them in the light, scrunching his face up. He suddenly reminds me of a small child, except for the dark tattoos on his arms and neck, and the way his large frame takes up the entire doorway. "Are you crying?"

He saunters over to me, managing to maintain his cool aura even in his fatigue. He halts in front of me, warm hands reaching for my arms. "Everly, what's wrong?"

I can't answer him. I shake my head, the threat of tears hotly burning again. I don't want to cry in front of him, not now. I've managed to stop the tears and I don't need to be reduced to sobbing mess while he stands there. He brushes my hair out of my eyes and wipes my cheek with his thumb.

He stares down at me; his grey eyes are only halfway thawed out behind long lashes, and his lips purse unhappily.

"I just had a bad dream." I finally tell him, wishing he would let me go. It would be easier if we were in bed. I could hide my face in his neck and he'd pull my hair and this would all fade away. But here, in the light of his bathroom, everything is exposed.

"A bad dream." He repeats, and I stare up at him, wishing he wasn't so handsome. Wishing I didn't want him to kiss me and make me forget everything he's told me. He bites the side of his cheek and squints his eyes. "Was I in it?"

I avert my stare from him. He's too intense like this. Too Eric in this moment; all knowing and too quick to figure things out. I hear him exhale slowly, his hands making their way up my side. When I took back to him, his eyes are above me, as though the answers are written high on the wall.

"Is Jeanine asking you to kill everyone on her list? Are you going to kill everyone that she asks you to?" I reach for him, my arms wrapping around the narrowing of his waist. Eric is nothing but pure solid muscle beneath his skin. Only sometimes do I think he feels soft, and it's usually in the rare moment when he's curled himself into me.

Eric sighs heavily, and he rests his chin on the top of my head. "No."

The relief that washes over me is so heavy I almost collapse. "Good." He tightens his grip around me, and I lean forward until my nose touches his chest. He doesn't say anything, and I move to look back up at him. "Eric?"

He stares down at me, his eyes fixed on mine. "Is that what you're worried about? That'll she have me kill you?" His fingers dig into my skin, blunt nails against my sides. "I told you I'd never hurt you. You just have to trust me."

I nod at him. "I do trust you, Eric. I just don't trust her."

He frowns, his full lips almost pouty in the moment. "I don't either."

My heart soars with relief, and I stand up on my toes to brush my lips against his. "Thank you."

He looks slightly confused, probably more from his interrupted sleep, but he shrugs. "Can we go back to bed now? All this talk about murder can wait till the morning."

He doesn't wait for my answer. He reaches for my waist and picks me, my legs wrapping around him and he carries me back to his bed. My dream is long forgotten as I find my place beside him. My head on his chest, my arm over him. He turns slightly so he's closer, his warm skin pressing up against mine.

"Goodnight Amity." His words are quiet, and I fall asleep seconds after he says them.

 

 

My card sits on his desk.

I notice it when I stop to bring him a coffee. Jeremy is hot on my trail, and I'm starting to wish he'd have finished his training before I started mine. He seems to spend a lot of time asking me questions, as though I have some sort of insider knowledge. I want to kick him, to tell him I know just as much as he does and could he just stop with the inquisition already.

I mostly want to stay and talk to Eric. My eyes are fixed on the card that he's set next to his computer, but Jeremy grabs my arm- ignoring the flash of annoyance in Eric's eyes and full on pulls me back towards the office we've been using this morning. I'm desperate enough to yell at him that I just want to see Eric for one more minute. I want to climb into his lap and ask him to take me home because I'm over all of this and I'm cranky because someone ate all the chocolate chip muffins.

Instead I can only stare helplessly back at Eric, watching his expression change to mild amusement as Jeremy loudly suggests we go over factional resourcing. I look at Eric pleadingly, hoping he'll catch the look on my face as I'm being dragged through the doorway.

He doesn't help me. He simply shrugs at me as if to say good luck before he turns his attention back to whatever he's working on.

"Was it Eric's birthday?" Jeremy asks as we walk through the hallway. He's spotted the card on Eric's desk. I glare at him in response, trying to walk ahead of him.

"Yeah. A few Fridays ago." I stomp down the hallway, balling my hands into fists. "You know what, why don't you go look up the factional resource guide. I'm gonna go get breakfast." I try to break away from him, but Jeremy is oddly needy today.

"Are you guys going to have a baby? Was that your gift to him? That you're pregnant? He's been staring at that card all morning." He's walking quickly with me, his long legs easily catching up as I storm past the desks. I come to a halt at his words, my hands flying up.

"What? No, I'm not pregnant. And that definitely was not Eric's birthday present." I all but shriek the words. The lady at the desk I'm in front of stops typing and turns to look at me. Her nameplate reads Linda- Technology Specialist, and she looks very interested in what I'm yelling about.

"Are you sure you aren't?" Jeremy is undeterred. "You've been really crabby these past few weeks."

I contemplate murder. If I were to stab him right here, right now, using one of Linda's pens, would anyone really blame me? The lady at her desk snorts and I give her the nastiest look I can muster.

"Go away." I yell at him. I try to take off, but he only steps closer and leans into me.

"I won't tell anyone if you are. Not even Tris."

"Jeremy if you don't go back to your own office, so help me God I will kill you." I manage to say the words through gritted teeth. Jeremy takes a step back, fake shock on his face.

"Fine." He holds his palms up. "I'm just trying to be your friend." He huffs before he stomps off and I stand there, next to Linda who's looking at me sympathetically.

"Don't worry, honey. It'll happen when it's meant to happen." She tells me in a soothing tone. I turn to stare at her. She's smiling sweetly at me. I try to smile back, but to my horror, I spy Eric marching down the hallway. His gaze is fixed on me and he wastes no time marching over to me with his eyebrow raised.

"Why are you yelling at Jeremy? I can hear you two all the way in my office." He looks annoyed, as though he's been sent out here to reprimand us.

Linda clucks at him. "Leave your wife alone Eric. Jeremy was giving her a hard time about the baby and she just told him to go away. It's none of his business anyway."

Eric's expression changes to one I can't read. "The baby? What baby?"

I put my hands on my hips again, wishing I could start this whole morning over. "There is no baby. Jeremy thought that for your birthday we were having a baby." I watch as he tries to keep his expression straight, but I can see the muscle in his jaw twitch. He's probably one more baby conversation away from popping a blood vessel.

"I didn't know it was your birthday Eric. Happy Birthday, big guy!" Linda chimes in, rustling through some papers on her desk. She's oblivious to the fact that he looks close to exploding.

I watch as Eric takes a step back, both of his eyebrows near his hairline. He looks menacing even in his retreat. "I'll see you for lunch." He points at me, almost accusatory.

"We'll someone's got a case of the Mondays." Linda chirps and I resists from pointing out that it's Tuesday.

"He just doesn't like celebrating his birthday." I tell her. I watch him head back into his office with one final glare in my direction. At least his hair looks nice today. It's been cut recently, the sides shaved back down to nothing.

"Well Erudites don't typically celebrate their birthdays. One more trivial thing to get in the way of their endless pursuit of knowledge. Some habits die hard." Linda pats me on the shoulder. "At least now he has you to force a little cheerfulness into his life."

 

 

The rest of my week passes by quickly.

Jeremy and I spend a lot of time reading about factional resourcing and the many ways the factions share some of the same beliefs in that regard. Max spends a lot of his time not in his office, but completely engrossed in some new project than involves night vision goggles. I try not to stare at him as he wore them while he marched through the hallways, wanting very badly to tell him they were meant to be worn at night.

On Thursday I meet up with Tris and Christina and I can't help but have missed them way too much. I feel like my life has been a constant swirl of work, Eric not telling me anything but looking at me like he wants to tell me something but then again not really, and Jeremy asking me what I thought about the Dauntless Recycling program.

Tris is grinning widely when I slide into the chair next to her. The stylist trots over, and begins to section out my hair, clipping it up out of the way. Christina had come up with a plan that we should have our hair done before going out for drinks. I'd never really had my hair done unless you counted having someone braid it for me, and I'd certainly never really gone out for drinks before. I watch the stylist patiently wraps my hair around a curling wand, section by section, then pin it in place to cool. Pretty soon my head resembles some sort of bubble and I try not to stare at it.

"How are things with Jeremy?" I ask Tris. She's watching in horror as her stylist is back combing large sections of her hair, making it seem much bigger than it is. She makes a face then quickly covers it up.

"He's been really busy. He said Max has you guys doing a ton of research, and he's counting down the days till he trains with Eric." Tris pauses, her eyes widening when the girl brings over a can of hairspray. "He really likes Eric. I think he's got a bit of hero worship going on though I have no idea why anyone would view Eric as a hero." She stops and looks embarrassed for a second, as though she spoke without thinking. "Sorry Everly. I know he's your husband and all…"

I shrug. Eric is definitely one of a kind, and I take no offense to her words. "Does he know Eric at all?" I ask her. The stylist pulls the clips out of my hair, and begins gently combing through them. They look pretty; it's left my hair wavy and soft, but more in control than the usual mess it winds up in.

Tris shakes her head. "I mean, he's definitely heard about Eric. But he only knows him from the leadership training class. Jeremy had Lauren as a trainer, and up until now had almost no interaction with Eric. I think they're kinda close in age." Her hair is starting to look slightly more normal now, most of the poof flattening out.

"Has he told you he loved you again?" I try to turn and look at her without moving my head. My stylist is now spraying something on my hair and it looks bright and shiny under the lighting.

Tris nods and glances around her. Christina is up front paying for her hair and I get the sudden feeling Tris hasn't told her yet. "All the time. I still can't exactly say it back. Most of the time I just kiss him and then he stops talking." She grins at me and I can't help but laugh. She and Eric have more in common than they think.

"Are you and Eric good?" Her voice is suddenly quieter, almost shy. It seems that people either are afraid to ask me about him or just blurt out whatever pops into their head. I nod my head at her.

Things were good with Eric, but it was easy with him. He'd made sure of it. He'd carefully crafted my whole Dauntless experience around himself, and it's not like I was complaining. Quite the opposite. The Eric I knew wasn't the one who threatened initiates with their lives, or was the henchmen to some evil genius. The Eric I knew was quick to spend his free time watching pointless movies with me before shoving himself on top of me.

I'd gone out on a limb when I wrote on his birthday card. Aside from writing that I hoped he had a wonderful birthday, I had written that I was glad he was my husband. That there was no one else I'd rather be married to. I'd signed it the card with the words- Love, Everly.

It wasn't exactly an I Love You, but it was the closest to it I'd dared write. My heart had felt tight when I finished, wondering how he'd take it. I had spent a few minutes imagining him reading it, wondering if he would find bravery in my actions of admitting what I felt for him. Verbal affection was a hot issue with Eric.

HIs frown when he read it had thrown me off. For a moment I feared it was too much. Too honest and blunt, the words written right in front of him.

I hadn't seen him take the card to work, but it obviously meant enough for him to place on his desk. It was exposed there; anyone could walk by and pick it up, reading the words that I'd meant for him. He wasn't one for personal items in his work space. Even his apartment was rather void of anything except what he deemed necessary.

I got the impression the words meant more to Eric than he let on.

The sudden urge to go find him, to run back to the apartment and bury my head in his neck, washes over me. I glance down at my hands, the large ring on my finger and the band behind it.

"He's good. Just busy." I tell Tris. She nods in understanding.

"Jeremy told me that he asked you if you guys were having a baby. I told him to mind his own business." She smiles at me, her face looking flustered. "He gets a little excited. He has six brothers and sisters. He's mentioned a few times he can't wait to have a family of his own."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, Eric wasn't exactly thrilled."

He hadn't been.

When he'd met me for lunch later, his face had the same expression on it that he'd had when he watched Landon kiss me.

"So did you have busy morning?" I ask him, smiling sweetly. I took a bite of my hamburger, trying to swallow down the taste. I wasn't a huge fan of hamburgers, but today's seemed especially awful. I pretend I'm very interested it and Eric simply sits next to me, bouncing his knee up and down while he sits with his eyes widened in annoyance.

"I did. After I explained to the entire technology department that congratulations weren't in order."

I'd tried to appear apologetic, but it was hardly my fault that everyone seemed to be very interested in Eric's recent affairs. I guess the idea of Eric having a wife and possibly a family was the sort of gossip that was too delicious for anyone to pass up. I understood the allure; the actions were so unlike Eric himself that it was delightful to hear about them. It was the kind of stuff Courtney and Sofia and I would spend hours giggling over.

Eric looked less delighted and he narrowed his eyes at me. "You missed a meeting with Max yesterday. He said he emailed you a few times but he hasn't heard back from you. Is there something wrong?"

I had looked up at him in surprise, finally swallowing my hamburger. "I never got any email from him."

Eric frowned. "I figured. I'll look at your email set up later. Finish your lunch." He scoots himself closer to me, his knees bumping against mine and for a moment, everything is right in my world.

 

The bar is loud and noisy, and it makes me long for the quiet roar of Clyde's. Christina had dragged us to some sort of lounge. It was dark and almost foggy, full of bright flashing lights and blinking neon colors. The furniture looks slick and hard; small areas are set back from the floor and dotted with booths and very high tables. Heavy dance driven music blares from the walls and it's so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts.

We wait beside the bar until an opening clears, then hop up on the barstools. The girl behind the bar is busy and her long hair is twisted into two buns on the top of her head. She smiles at us and takes our order despite the loud noise. It's not long before a drink is shoved into my hand, the contents bright and sparkly. I stare at it for a moment and before I can take a sip, it's knocked out of my hand by Rylan.

"Sorry about that. Hi ladies. Wow, you all look nice." He winks at Christina and Tris and ignores the fact that my drink is now somewhere all over the floor.

"Rylan." I greet him in annoyance. It's not so much that I wanted to try the drink, it's his sudden appearance that makes me believe Eric is not far behind. So much for girl's night.

I'm right, of course.

He appears seconds later; his dark shirt is unbuttoned slightly and the sleeves are rolled up, his head is held high, arrogant as ever. He and Jason make their way towards us and Eric's smirk finds me easily.

I wave at him and he heads over, sauntering up to the stool and stepping between my legs and motioning to the bartender.

"Hi Eric." I announce, watching him completely ignore me. It's not until he looks down at me do I realize he looks different. Now that he's in front of me, his posture is less tense. Relaxed almost. His smirk is still there, one side of his mouth quirking up as his eyes look flick over me.

"Hi Everly." He orders something that sounds gross and probably tastes like paint thinner.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him. He's patiently waiting for his drink, but his hand is now on my waist, his fingers digging into my side.

"Guy's night out." He announces in mock glee.

"Funny Coulter." I tell him, trying to ignore the way his hand is creeping higher, his fingers grazing up my ribs.

"Oh it's Coulter now, is it? Are we back to that?" He leers at me, leaning in so close his chest is pressed against mine. "I can make you say your own last name if that's what you're into."

I can't help the giggle that escapes me and I wonder if he's already been drinking. I've never seen Eric so easy going, almost flirty in this moment. He bends forward as the bartender slides him his drink, and his presses his lips below my ear. I can't help but squirm closer to him, my whole body angling towards his.

"Eric."

His actions are startling, mostly because we are in public and in front of his friends. He's been fine to hold my hand or kiss me goodbye, but nothing like this.

"Yes?" He smirks again and raises an eyebrow. "Do you need something?"

"I thought you guys normally went to Clyde's." I point out to him. He leans back for a second, taking a long swallow of his drink. He smiles at me, the kind of smile that I wish I could see all the time. It makes my heart forget to beat for a second and my lungs contract painfully.

"Thought we'd try something new." He pauses and his dark eyes hold mine for one painfully long moment. "And you're here."

His fingers resume their exploration, lazily trailing over my shoulder blades now until I reach for him. My arms encircle his waist, pulling him close to me.

"Are you guys staying?" I ask him. My head is against his hard chest, and I can smell his cologne. The scent reminds me of his bed sheets, of our home. His fingers find my hair and he finishes his drink in one final sip.

"Maybe." He announces lazily. He's staring behind me and I turn to see what's holding his interest. It's Christina and Rylan, deep in conversation. As deep in conversation as one can be with this loud music.

"Did she tell you he's asked her out a few times?" Eric asks me, watching them carefully. I wonder what's going on in his mind. Does he find Christina a suitable match for his friend? Is he revolted by his friends open display of his feelings towards Christina?

I shake my head. "No, she's never told me. He looks like he's determined now." I watch as he leans into her, tucking her hair behind her ear. I can see her blushing from here, her stare fixed on Rylan.

Eric laughs, something dry and unimpressed. "Dauntless never give up."

 

 

An hour later, I'm leaning into Eric's chest.

The air is warm around me and the lounge is buzzing pleasantly. We've been joined by a few mutual friends that are more than slightly drunk. Jason is currently half on his chair, balancing his drink on top of Rylan's. Rylan is busy wooing Christina unaware that his drink is about to be rightfully spilled onto the ground. A guy named Uriah and a girl named Marlene are both cracking jokes and spinning around on the bar stools beside us. Peter and Four are both talking to Tris rather intensely, and through the warm haze of the room, I catch her worried expression. Peter finally shakes his head and heads up to the bar, rubbing his face while he waits to order.

"What's wrong with him?" I ask Eric.

Eric shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. Rylan had ordered them for the guys, while something sweet and sugary was placed in front of me. I was sipping at it half-heartedly. It tasted mostly like ginger ale and cherries.

"He's probably asking them why he's not helping with the next training class." Eric rolls his eyes. He slides his hand down my hair until he can grip the ends. He pulls slightly, almost absent mindedly. "He's a pain in the ass."

I smile up at him and he grins back before leaning close to my ear. "You know, it's still my birthday month. I believe you said you'd help me celebrate it for as long as I'd like." He pulls harder on my hair and suddenly I have little interest in anything other than heading back upstairs with him.

 

Arlene appears in my office on Tuesday.

Her presence is a surprise, but not unwelcome. I've grown slightly fond of her. Once I became accustomed to her style of interacting with people it was obvious that she really does have my and Eric's best interests in mind. Her brusque mannerisms remind me so much of Eric, and the way her eyes narrow at my stomach every time she sees me no longer irritates me. She seems to have a soft spot for Eric; she heckles him every time we've walked by the infirmary, and she always seems to know what he's doing.

Today she looks frazzled, her face pinched and her eyes scanning the office before she speaks.

"Everly, dear I'm afraid I have some bad news." Her voice sounds tight.

For a moment, my heart sinks. I immediately think something has happened to Eric. My mind flashes back to the time he got shot while on patrol. I shove my desk chair back, slamming my lap top shut.

"Is Eric okay?" I ask her.

She nods at me but her gaze falls. "It's your father dear. We just got word that he seems to have suffered a heart attack. He's in their care now, but they don't think he has long. Hellen sent for you."

My stomach sinks. Hellen is the closest thing Amity has to a nurse. She's the watered down Amity version of Arlene; her mannerisms are much more soft and caring but her level of training pales in comparison to what Arlene has. She's more suited to tending fevers and colds than something like a heart attack.

"When did it happen?" I ask her. I stand up now, shoving things around on my desk. My hands shake slightly as they try to organize the stack of reports I was working on. "Should I tell Max? Do you know where Eric is?" I have two meetings this afternoon, both with Max and I have no clue where Eric is. I haven't seen him since this morning and I have no idea where he could be.

Arlene steps closer to the desk and helps me stack the papers together. "It happened sometime this morning. They've been able to stabilize him, and he's asked for you several times."

My chest tightens at the thought of my father. We had always had a tense relationship growing up. He was Amity through and through. He was gentle and kind, never raising his voice or disciplining anyone too harshly. He raised us to be peaceful and respectful, never hurried or angry. Naturally, he and I had butted heads almost my entire adolescence. I started to question everything about my surroundings, and it had frustrated him to no end.

By the time I left for Dauntless, he and I were barely speaking. The last time I saw him, his face had read nothing but disappointment and the barest sliver of anger. It had gutted me. How could he expect me to stay somewhere that I couldn't find my own peace.

Now I stand in my office, with Arlene's hand on my shoulder and my heart in my throat.

 

 

It's snowing by the time I reach Amity.

The lush flakes are soft and wet, still too warm to really stick. I'd come by train, leaping somewhat uneasily in my boots and dress. I hadn't bothered to change. Max preferred the leaders to wear their uniform during any faction visits, but I didn't have time and I didn't care. I'd left almost immediately with Arlene offering to track Eric down for me, and nothing more than a jacket in my hands.

I make my way through the quiet fields.

I walk down a well-worn path to the small building that houses the infirmary. It's almost cabin like, wooden walls and a large wrap around deck. I don't knock; I simply walk through the door and right into the front room. Hellen is coming out of the room, her long hair braided to the side, almost down to her waist. Her face is serious, worried lines etched around her eyes.

"Is he awake?" I ask her.

Hellen's head falls but she nods. "He's been saying your name. It's not good though. I don't know how much longer he'll have." She motions for me to follow her. I wrap my arms around my waist, trying to starve off the chill that's crept in through my poor excuse for a sweater dress. I trail behind her, only coming to a stop when my eyes fall upon him.

He's awake; his eyes wash over me weakly, blinking slowly as I make my way towards him. My whole body reacts instantly; I can't help the tears that start nor the way my whole body seems to crumple into itself. He looks pale and feeble, his hands shaking as he holds one out for me.

"Hi Daddy."

It might be the last thing I ever get to say to him. He takes my hand in his; his hands are cold and rough after years of hard work. He grasps my hand with the strength that he has and squeezes tightly.

I lose it.

 

 

It's nearly sundown when Eric finds me.

I've been wandering in the groves for some time now. The air is much colder and the snow is coming down with a whimsical force. It's starting to pile up amongst the bottoms of the trees, and it frosts what's left of the cherry blossoms. I step carefully over the wet ground as I come to half in the middle of the groves.

This spot has always been my favorite. The trees arch together here, making a large canopy over the aisle. Today the canopy is made up of dark branches and bare stems. The remaining blossoms mostly litter the ground, but some fall sleepily as I walk beneath them. This place has always held an aura of magic to me. I've spent hours daydreaming beneath these very trees.

Eric makes his way down the path. He's dressed in his full uniform and he walks briskly with his stare directly on me.

He looks out of place here despite the fact that Eric naturally seems to own whatever space he's in. The dark uniform is stiff and sharp, his boots are shiny, tightly laced and freshly polished only to ever reinforce his authority. His lips part when he seems me, his head tilting to the side, a hint of uneasiness crossing his features. The fading sun seems to burst behind him, lighting up the grove for a moment.

I can't look at him.

My father had only lasted another hour. He didn't say anything but my name, once, softly and sorrowfully. I sat beside him while he passed, tearfully filling him in on everything I'd accomplished. How I'd passed my training class, how I'd been the top initiate between all of the classes, how I was in a leadership training program. I told him about Eric, how I was married now and how utterly and hopelessly worried I was about Eric. I whispered that he shouldn't worry though. I was strong enough to save both of us no matter how badly I wanted Eric to keep me safe.

He took his final breath, one last moment on Earth, and everything inside of me broke.

I left almost immediately after. I should have left to find my mother, to offer up some sort of comfort to my brothers and sisters, but I couldn't. I needed to be alone. It was selfish, more so than I was comfortable with, but I couldn't stand to talk then. I'd hastily slipped out past Hellen's sympathetic gaze, and made my way through Amity.

Eric stops a few feet away from me, his stare intense as ever.

I drift towards him, meeting his stare.

"He's gone." I tell him.

Eric reaches for me, his warm hands finding my cold ones. "I'm sorry."

His voice is low and quiet and I realize I've never heard him utter any sort of pure apology. It seems odd even though his sympathy is genuine. He tugs me towards him, staring down at me. "I came as soon as I heard. I was stuck in Candor."

I nod at him, shrugging lightly. "It's alright."

The snow falls down around us, sticking in my and Eric's hair. Some of them stick where his hair is longer, sparkling in the low light. He brushes a few pieces out of my bangs, sighing heavily.

"Everly…"

"Will you stay here with me? Just for the night?" I have no plans to leave Amity even though every cell in my body is screaming to go home. This place is no longer where I reside, and my father's passing only seems to darken my feelings towards it. Everything in me wants to return to Dauntless; I'd much prefer Eric to force me back, to pull me into our bed and help me close my eyes. But I can't. Amity will hold a celebration for my father tomorrow, and I haven't even gone to see my mother yet.

Eric nods, his jaw tightening up the slightest bit. He'd probably prefer we return home as well, but I want him to stay with me. I lean into him as his arms slide around me. His jacket is cold and stiff against my cheek but it's the only thing I can find comfort in right now.

His holds me against him until I break away to stare up at him. The sun sets behind the groves, leaving us standing beneath now frozen trees. The air is still until Eric moves.

He bends down, his lips pressing very gently against mine for the barest of seconds.

"Let's get you inside." He presses his lips together and I nod, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

 

 

Eric is warm and solid against my cheek.

He's long stripped off his uniform and his t-shirt, and now he lies beside me, his body angled towards mine.

Johanna greeted us when we made our way back to the main part of the compound. She looked grief-stricken, her eyes watery and her lips falling downwards when she saw me. She was quiet, ever respectful, and she led Eric and I to a small set of rooms off to the side of Amity. These houses were meant for important visitors. When I was younger, we used to hide in the them while playing hide and seek. No one ever really stayed here.

Eric had slipped into bed beside me, his large frame looking foreign in the mostly white room. He'd sunk into the fluffy sheets and comforter with a funny look on his face. This room was the polar opposite of his back home.

I'd reached for him until my cheek found his chest, his skin still warm from his heavy uniform.

"We can leave tomorrow." I tell him, wiping at my eyes. I can't help the way they seem to tear up on their own. I never thought of my father passing away, and despite our tense relationship, it still seems unfair that he's gone from this Earth.

"Whenever you want." Eric answers me, his arms encircling around me tightly. I push closer to him. I listen to his heart beat steadily, loud and strong beneath his chest. Aside from my friends in Dauntless, Eric is the only important person in my life.

I push my head away from his chest, moving up until I can stare at him. He smiles slightly, his eyes on mine.

"You okay?" He reaches one hand into my hair, brushing it back. His thumb finds my jaw and I try to nod at him.

"Thanks for staying here with me." I watch him carefully. Eric's sharp features stare back at me. I try to pretend that I don't know him; that he didn't train me and marry me and let me this close to him. I stare at the silver above his eyebrow, the way his nose slopes upwards at the very tip, the way his cheekbones are sharply defined. I wonder what he looked like as a child. Was anything about him ever soft?

Eric stares back at me. "I wouldn't leave you alone." I watch the way his lips turn up, and his fingers curl into my hair. "You know that right?" If it were possible for Eric to look hesitant, if his genetic makeup allowed for such an emotion, he looked that way in this moment. As though maybe he hasn't done enough to confirm his loyalty to me.

I nod at him and I wish I could smile.

"Everly." He says my name, the words slipping easily from his lips as he stares up at me. "You know that you mean…" Eric pauses, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. "You mean everything to me."

My heart constricts painfully; his eyes are clear now, devoid of any conflicting emotion.

Eric moves to sit up, pulling me with him. He takes my face in his hands, one on each side before he kisses me, softly at first then harder as I move towards him. My thoughts are exploding in my head, too many to focus on a single one.

"I love you." I tell him, mostly against his lips but loud enough that he can hear me. He kisses me back with force, my hands now around his neck yanking him closer to me. It will never be enough. He'll never be close enough to me, not ever.

He tears himself apart from me, his eyes on mine, grey and wide.


	25. Goodbyes and Hellos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news- This chapter is up and the next chapter is halfway done! Woohoo!
> 
> The bad news- I'll be in Disneyland tomorrow until Tuesday, so cross your fingers I can pawn my children off on my parents and find time to finish and update ;) We've got a family reunion of sorts and one of them has to want to watch them for like, five hours. Right?
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who follows this story, who has written a review, and who has sent me such sweet messages. I adore you all! I'm so glad you are having a blast reading it. I appreciate you all!

Eric stares up at me, his eyes the largest I have ever seen them. He doesn't blink; he simply stares, either unimpressed or in mild confusion- as though no one has ever uttered those words to him.

Maybe they haven't.

I can't be certain how much of Eric's life has ever included anything loving. His posture gives way to the only clues I have and even those are not by his choosing. I think back to all the times he's tensed up around me, not out of fear or unwillingness to be close, but out of a lack of understanding of why he would want to be close.

It's as though his whole body has worked hard to defend itself against any attack, be it physical or emotional. The steeling of his muscles is a necessary mechanism to keep his emotions in check, safely away from exposure. It's the same way one would prepare for an attack by assuming a defensive position.

I don't know if it makes me feel better or worse.

Can I undo whatever has lead him to be this way? Is it too far ingrained in the very makeup of his being? It doesn't really matter. What I feel for him is not affected by the way he reacts to it. If he were to slide out from underneath me, to shove me away from him and leave without ever looking back, I would still be utterly and hopelessly in love with Eric.

It's probably not the smartest thing I could have done. But he's what I want and what I will fight for.

Because the look on Eric's face tells me the same. That whether or not he is able to express his feelings for me, or even recognize the importance of them, he knows they are there.

Eric finally blinks and his lips part open for a second before he presses them back together. For once he has no sharp retort. He just stares up at me until I lose my nerve and shift my eyes away for a moment.

"You don't have to say it back." I tell him. Defeat washes over me; despite my acceptance of Eric and his ways, his silence still stings.

He shifts uncomfortably, and when I glance back at him, a look of annoyance has crossed his face. He is never more Eric than right now; his eyebrows have knit inwards and his lips have formed a frown. I could reach out and trace his brow bone, my fingers sliding over the way it is more pronounced in his agitation.

"Of course I love you." He finally snaps and his stare intensifies. He doesn't look so much uncomfortable as he does cautious. I can't help the smile that finds its way across my lips. Only Eric could utter those words with such irritation and still have them mean the world. I glance down at him, and his expression changes to one of complete and utter horror. "Now get off of me."

He moves to sit up but I refuse. I push him back, attempting to hold him in place. "What? Why?"

He raises his eyebrows at me before his hands come up to grasp my arms. "I told you. You are always on top of me when you decide to have these little discussions. I clearly remember saying no more."

I shake my head even though I'm smiling. I refuse to move. After his confession it's apparent his defenses are firing and he's deflecting the best way he can. I won't let him wiggle out of this one. Not after today. "Say it again."

He cocks his head at me and he sighs, avoiding my stare. When he finally turns back to me his eyes are bright and clear.

"Fine. I love you." He says it without anything hidden beneath it. His words are honest and raw, coming from some small place inside of him.

I don't need him to tell me anything else.

I lunge for him, my lips finding his and I push him further back into the overly white sheets.

 

 

Morning comes far faster than I am ready for.

I'm woken up by a persistent knocking on the door. I finally uncurl myself from Eric who's managed to somehow stay asleep despite the noise. I rub my eyes and sigh, looking for my borrowed nightgown. Johanna had been kind enough to make sure I had night clothes to wear, regardless of the fact that the amity nightgown was not anything I wanted to put on. I find it on the floor next to Eric's side of the bed and I slip it over my head.

The knocking continues as I make my way to the door and open it hesitantly, praying it isn't my mother. I don't know what I want to say to her yet, and I'm just not ready to see her. Much to my relief it's only Courtney, holding a tray loaded with food and drinks.

"Morning. I thought you guys would want to eat breakfast in here."

She steps through the door with a calm ease and I've never been more grateful for her in my life. The thought of eating with all of Amity staring in respectful sympathy is unpleasant. She sets the tray down on the table to the side of the kitchen and tries to subtly glance around.

"Thank you so much Courtney. I really appreciate it. I don't know if I can handle everyone right now." I tell her. She nods at me and she smiles sadly.

"I figured as much. And I'm so sorry about your daddy, Everly. I know you loved him a lot." Courtney stares for a moment. "I know you guys didn't always get along, but he was proud of you." She pulls on the sleeves of her sweater, adjusting them a bit. "We all are."

Her words catch me off guard for a moment. I've never given too much thought to if anyone in Amity every cared what I did once I left. I don't have time to answer her because Eric chooses that moment to walk through the bedroom doorway, shirtless and sleepy. He eyes Courtney carefully, his expression neutral as he makes his way towards me, his hands brushing against the hideous nightgown.

Courtney's eyes widen at the sight of him. She watches him walk past her, her eyes making their way down his chest, past his boxers, and to his bare legs. He looks larger undressed, even more imposing than normal.

"I uh… I should let you guys eat." She squeaks. Eric smirks at her and reaches for the cup of coffee she's brought.

"Nice to see you again." He tells her, his politeness sounding nothing short of amused. He comes to stand beside me, towering over us. "Thanks for the food." He looks it over with a grim expression. I can almost see his mind working, trying to decide if it's safe to eat.

"You're uh very welcome." She tells him, her eyes trying to find a spot to land safely. They flit around him, trying desperately not to stare.

"I'll walk you out." I tell her. I shove Eric gently and he nudges me back.

"Bye Courtney." He says pointedly. He sits down at the table, not bothering to get dressed.

"Bye." She tells him, finally staring at him as though he's some sort of foreign species. I shake my head and walk her to the door, wishing I could do more to show her my thanks. She hesitates for the barest of seconds, her large eyes fixing on my own.

"Will you stay all day?" Her voice is hopefully and I hate the fact that I can only shrug in response.

"I don't know. Maybe? I'm going to go see my mother after this and then we'll see." I answer. I know what she's asking. Will I stay through the dinner to honor my father. The thought of it makes my stomach knot up most unpleasantly.

Courtney nods at me before she looks in Eric's direction one final time. He's happily eating his eggs and bacon and paying no attention to us.

"He's huge, Everly. Like really huge." She whispers and I find myself giggling in this much needed moment. "I mean, I've seen him a few times but for some reason he looks extra huge today."

"Yeah, I know. He looks bigger without clothes on."

Courtney snickers and Eric looks curiously in our direction. He stares for a moment, then returns to his breakfast after he finds nothing of interest going on. I shake my head at her and move forwards to hug her goodbye, crushing my friend against me until she finally whispers at me.

"I'm so sorry Everly. But I'm glad you came back."

 

 

My mother is not quite the mess I'd pictured her to be, but maybe that's because she's floating high on a cloud of peace serum. I want to ask if someone slipped her an extra dose today, and what we will she do when it wears off. But I already know the answer; and the answer is nothing. It won't wear off because she'll just have some more tomorrow.

She smiles at me, tucking her long hair behind her ear and stepping towards me. I can tell she's sad, devastated even, but she's still functioning. She has to. There are still three younger children at home and two that flit in and out of her house from time to time.

"Hi sweetheart." She hugs me tightly, and I lean into her wondering how I seem to be more upset than she is. "You doing okay?"

I nod against her, wishing I could offer her something more than my presence. My mother and I had always gotten along well, and I'd admired the way she'd always handled everything with grace. She was patient and loving, her heart far too kind in every way. She had an ease about her; nothing seemed to ruffle her nor did she ever seemed bothered by trivial things. I'd like to think I got that from her, and that it wasn't just the peace serum.

It feels good to hug her. It's been so long since I've seen her, and the fear that she might think less of me for choosing a faction so unlike hers was nearly crippling. But standing with my arms around her, in the large kitchen of my childhood home I know that the furthest thing from the truth. I lean into her, closing my eyes as she holds me against her.

I'm going to cry again, but it's okay.

 

 

Eric joins us for lunch and while he doesn't look the least bit uncomfortable, he does look like he'd rather be eating lunch with Four than sitting amongst the Amity. He sits close by me, his arm brushing against mine and his hand occasionally falling to rest of my knee. He eats rather selectively, choosing to eat mostly salad and some of the chicken. My mother watches him with amusement, her eyes occasionally falling to his wedding ring.

She hadn't been surprised when I told her I'd married Eric.

She knew exactly who he was. I told her while we washed dishes together, the action soothing and distracting.

"I've seen him around before. He's always seemed very militant." She rinses the bowl off and hands it to me. I shake my head slightly.

"Not entirely. I mean, around Dauntless, yes. But not around me." I tell her. I dry the bowl off and set it aside to dry. I can still remember Eric forcing me to run with him, for weeks on end, barking at me until I was able to keep his pace, or making me fight him until I could barely stand and the sun was nearly risen. That part of his training had been militant in some aspects. It wasn't until I'd slept in his bed did he ease up slightly. My training had taken a whole different turn then. His personal interest over rode his desire to beat out Four's class. It was only an added bonus for him that I ended up first in class in addition to ending up tangled around him.

"Well he seems a little less so now. He certainly seems to care for you." She smiles at me, her grey hair catching the late afternoon sunlight. She scrubs at a pot for a moment, her hands suddenly stilling. "Your father was afraid he'd hurt you. He said you were in over your head." She stops, her eyes growing fuzzy. "I wasn't worried. I knew you'd find your way. And you did." She looks at me with a sort of pride, as though my actions were braver than simply trying to find happiness.

"Everyone here seems to think I set myself up to fail." I tell her, slumping against the counter. "Landon said the same thing."

My mother shakes her head and wipes her hand on her skirt. "Landon is just a heart broken fool, Everly. You left him to lead a whole new life. I don't think he believed you'd be so happy with it. He sulked around here for weeks after you left."

"I wouldn't have been happy had I stayed here." I tell her, trying not to make my words sound harsh. I put the last of the dishes away, wishing there were more so my hands would stay busy. The light streams in through the large kitchen windows. I can still remember the day my parents told us we'd been assigned a house, a real home, instead of the communal sleeping areas. I'd never had my own space before, and sharing a room with one sister was the closest I ever got.

"I think he knows that. That's why he's unsettled. He doesn't understand why you don't like this way of life. It's not a bad thing Everly. Everyone has a different idea of happiness." She smiles at me, her words patient as ever.

"I think Landon is a little more than unsettled. I think he might be getting himself into trouble." I try to convey the importance behind what I'm saying, but I can't be so sure my mother gets it.

"I'm sure he's fine dear. He's just trying to find himself the same way you are. He hasn't taken your father's passing well. They were close. Your father used to say Landon reminded him of himself at times." She misses the point completely and I shake my head no.

"No, I mean, I think Landon is hanging around the wrong people. He seems really different."

She smiles at me but I can tell she thinks he's fine.

"Mom, do you know if Amity lets people come back in. The ones who didn't make it in other factions?"

My mother stops to stare at me and for a moment I think she's about to answer yes. But she shakes her no, and very gently brushes my hair out of my eyes.

"No honey. And Landon's been busy. He took a job overseeing part of the water and food processing centers. I think it was a good way to keep you off his mind. I hope he sticks with it. He'll need something to focus on in the next few weeks."

I bite at my lip, the habit no better than the way Eric chews his cheek, and try to smile at her. "I'm really sorry about Daddy."

She smiles and this time it's watery and fuzzy and I can tell she's done talking. "Thank you, Everly. But you have to remember, sometimes beautiful things are born from the darkest tragedies. It's all in the way you look at it."

I don't know what she means, but I nod anyway.

 

 

The celebration starts in the late afternoon.

The air is still cold and crisp; and there must be a storm approaching because the wind feels like sharp scratches against my skin. Sofia had leant me her darkest dress to wear. It was a deep maroon, still shorter than was appropriate for this weather, but the closest thing to the dark colors she knew I'd be more comfortable in. It hit somewhere around my knee, and the sleeves came down past my fingers. She'd given me a sweater after I'd asked, and I had to question why no one but me seemed to be bothered by the cold.

I try to stay by Eric as we walk past the Dome. Amity is split up into three main areas; the fields and agricultural areas that spanned a vast amount of the community, the section of housing structures that also include the small infirmary, stables, and Johanna's office, and a large communal area that bordered the lake.

Eric and I head towards the lake, taking in the large tables that have been set up. It's a shitty choice in the current weather. The wind seems to howl and shriek off the lake, and the lanterns they've hung in the trees dangle with the threat of being blown away. They have made a large bonfire in the middle of the tables, and there are many from Amity that are hurriedly setting up for the dinner. I watch them quickly plate each table with the dark blue plates they use during any celebration to honor those who have passed.

My heart sinks.

I can't do it. I may be cowardly in this moment, but I can't sit here, amongst all of Amity and wear my emotions out in the open like this. I want to mourn in private; I want to fall apart by myself and not in front of my former faction that I left without a second thought.

I reach for Eric's hand, yanking hard until he comes to a halt beside me. He looks at me in question, his eyebrows raising up. "You don't want to go?" He says the words quietly, his voice only for me to hear. I shake my head at him, suddenly unable to speak. He's been the only constant in my world for the past months, and now more so than ever.

"Okay." Eric answers, nodding. We're stopped in the middle of the dirt path, but a group from the kitchen makes their way past us with trays of food. They nod in greeting, their arms full of pastries and dinner rolls. Eric's fingers have slipped between mine and he holds my hand tightly. "Do you want to sit out this dinner or do you want to go home?"

He's giving me the option, his face full of nothing but patience.

"I don't know." I stare up at him and I suddenly feel less like myself than ever. I didn't think coming here would do this to me. "I just want…" I trail off and Eric watches me carefully. A few of the older members of Amity slip by us. They take in Eric's appearance carefully, their eyes fixed on him. He's back in his uniform, his jacket buttoned up high. To them he must look stern, but I can tell his eyes aren't quiet as hard as they normally are.

Eric waits for me to say something. I watch the elders walk back towards the Dome. For the first time in a long time, I want him to make the decision for me.

"Do you want me to take you back to Dauntless?" He's facing me now, stepping close until he can reach his free hand for me. "I'll take you home if that's what you want." His hand is warm through my sweater, and his fingers curl into my skin. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

I try to smile at him and fail miserably.

It doesn't matter though.

Eric lets me fall against him, my head against his chest and my eyes unable to stop the tears that form. His hands slide up my back, into my hair until he finds my shoulder blade and pulls me closer to him.

"Can we just go home?" I whisper. I can feel him nod in understanding. I feel terrible with my decision, but I can't do it. Not right now.

Eric very gently loosens his grip on me and untangles himself from me. "Let's head back and get your things."

I follow after him, throwing one final glance back towards the lake and I know my decision is the right one.

 

 

Landon stops us as we leave.

He doesn't so much stop me as he does Eric, approaching him as though Eric isn't twice his size. I should have known this would happen. I hadn't seen Landon since I'd arrived here and it was too good to be true. He widens his stance in front of Eric, holding one hand up until it nearly touches Eric's jacket.

"Leaving so soon? Let me guess, Eric here's gotta get back to Dauntless and he's dragging you along with him." He smirks at Eric. "Nice husband you got there. Won't even let you mourn the loss of your own father. You really know how to pick 'em Everly." He rocks back on his heels and I try to bite back the nasty words that are forming in my throat.

Eris smiles at him, a cold disinterested look that is dismissive.

"Are you done here?" Eric asks him, his voice bored. Landon is unfazed. I can feel a bit of nervousness starting to make its way into my stomach. Landon has never been this confrontational, never this brash or bold.

"Does she know?" He presses on, his bravery now bordering on stupidity. His gaze is fixed on Eric, his posture a dare for Eric to shove him out of the way. "Does she know that you're simply an asshole who doesn't give a shit about her? "

I clench my hands into fists. If this is Landon's way to showing that he still cares about me, he's certainly going about it the wrong way. He's acting like the asshole that he's made Eric out to be.

Oddly enough Eric stays quiet, simply staring down at Landon as though he's crawled out from the sewage pipes and across Eric's shoe. This isn't good. A quiet Eric can be a dangerous Eric. I break the silence, deciding I've had enough of Landon for today.

"I decided to go home. I've said my goodbyes here." I grit my teeth, almost regretting that I've even spoken to him. It feels like I'm giving in, but I'm so angry I can't see straight.

Landon's whole face contorts into something rage filled. It's hard to believe that the same sweet boy I once couldn't stand to be a part from is in front of me spewing such hateful things in my direction. His whole body radiates anger and I suddenly tense up at the notion.

"It's a little weird for you to be so outwardly angry. Are you sure you're ok, Landon?" I ask him. It is odd; Landon had never once been mean towards me, never with his actions or his words. But the last time I saw him he grabbed my arm, and today it's obvious he's close to snapping. It's as though something is aiding in his aggression.

Landon lets out an amused laugh. "You're so naïve it isn't even funny." He shakes his head scornfully. "Shame you let Eric take away the sweet girl you once were." He takes a step back, grinning as though I'm an idiot. "It was nice knowing you. Sorry that I wasted all those years of my life with you."

I ball my hands into fists. In a small way he's right. I'm not the same girl that I was when I left Amity. I'm stronger and smarter, and most importantly, I'm happy. And Landon will never trivialize that again.

I punch him hard enough that he falls off balance. He stumbles back against a bit, his hand flying to his bloodied nose in surprise.

"What the hell?" He yells. He moves towards me, primed to attack but Eric easily steps in front of him. He grabs him by the throat, his fingers digging into Landon's skin with a vengeance. I can tell it will bruise, but that doesn't seem like enough of a reminder. I watch as Landon struggles to breathe, his bloodied face straining with the effort.

"Come at my wife again and I'll make sure you don't have too many more years of your life left." Eric snarls, shoving him aside. Landon lands on his knees, grimacing in the dirt. He coughs a few times before he wipes uselessly at the blood rushing from his nose.

Eric reaches for me, his face calm with only a minor trace of irritation across it. He slides his fingers back between mine and I leave with him, walking close enough that our arms touch.

I don't look back.

 

 

The next few days are rough.

I wish I had a way to contact my mother, but I know she doesn't know the first thing about e-mail and I have very little desire to head back to Amity. It seems like admitting defeat to ask for Eric to take me back, and that's the last thing I want. I wish I wasn't struggling like this; deep down I know Eric would let me go visit her in a heartbeat, it's simply my own insecurities creeping through.

Max has given me a few days off and I spent them wishing it weren't snowing so heavily. Dauntless seems even more cavernous in this weather. The hallways seem dark and freezing, and the few windows that are city level are frosted over. The snow has piled up in both of the main entry ways and it feels like the cold has managed to seep into every corner of my life.

The only thing warm in Dauntless is Eric.

His skin is hot, almost feverish, and I cling to him as though I have nothing else to hold onto. I wait for him to grow tired of me, tired of my sudden clinginess and my inability to let go of him.

But he doesn't.

He holds me just as tight, his cheek against my hair and his arm holding me close. He doesn't say much, for there are no words that can really make me feel any better. Eric is smart enough to know that I don't want to hear shallow sympathy.

Instead he simply lets me hold onto him as the nights seem to only get colder.

 

 

Max doesn't quite look at me and neither does Jeremy.

Both have uttered their apologies about my father for the past few days, and I've smiled and gritted my teeth. I just want things to go back to normal. I want to do my job and crawl under the covers with Eric and not have everyone throw me very sympathetic looks every time I step foot in a room.

I sit in the meeting, listening to them drone on and one about the upcoming Choosing Day. Max is hoping for larger numbers this year. He thinks that my success story might be enough motivation for those who were simply too afraid to choose Dauntless. The idea is a little contradictory; one should really be brave enough to choose Dauntless on their own. But I understand his logic. For some, knowing that someone from Amity made it, and is now on track to lead the faction, could just be the push for those who need it.

It makes me uneasy and I can't help but feel like he's under some sort of pressure suddenly.

A thought pops into my head as I'm staring at Max, and I can't even be sure of where it comes from. I don't want these fledgling initiates here for the sole purpose of being made into Jeanine's army, but maybe I can find a way to stop that from happening.

 

 

A few days later, everything seems to hurt less.

Eric kisses me goodbye, his hands in my hair and his chest against mine. I don't feel the sudden devastation when we part ways; he walks off towards his meeting with Tori and I make my way towards my office.

The idea of tackling my e-mails suddenly seems less daunting and I start to feel the tiniest flicker of excitement that the new initiates will be here soon. Four had been very careful when he approached me to work out a training program. I'd appreciated his respect for how I was feeling, and it had been easy for us to sit down and combine approaches. While hesitate about some of Eric's ideas, even Four had to admit that some of them were smarter and more efficient for the training class.

I click through my e-mails until I find the one I'm looking for and I realize I have less than twenty four hours until they are here.

 

 

I sit in the control room, half perched atop of Eric's knee, along with Rylan, Jason and Tris. Kacie occasionally stares in our direction, but she's busy with the cameras and can't seem to catch a break to do anything more than curiously glance our way.

We watch as the initiates jump from the roof. There are way more of them than when I arrived here and it looks like they take up the entire roof. Each one watches the one before them jump with their eyes wide. Some appear nervous, some appear terrified, and most look exhilarated. I silently try to pick out the ones that I think will make it. The first to jump are the Dauntless born; it's unsurprising, they drop easily off the roof, while Four watches them with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Who's at the bottom?" I ask Eric. He's leaning back slightly, watching with a very pleased expression. One of his hands is pulling the loose hairs at the end of my braid.

"Peter. He volunteered to help." Eric pulls harder and I turn to shoot him a disapproving glare. I'd worked hard to braid my hair around my head today and he's about to ruin it. He merely smirks in return.

"Peter is the worst introduction to Dauntless one could possibly imagine. Welcome to Dauntless, I'm Peter and I'm here to annoy you for your entire training and the rest of your life." Jason mimics Peter's voice and I try not to giggle. He's nailed it fairly well.

"Is he helping with the training?" Rylan looks at me and I shake my head no.

"It's Four, Lauren and I. No one's mentioned anything about Peter." I tell him.

"You're not training anyone this time?" Rylan asks Eric, his voice teasing. Eric shrugs, pulling harder on my braid until the whole bottom section of my hair comes out. I turn around to smack at his hands, trying to shoo him away from completely ruining my hair.

"Nah, look what happened last time someone volunteered me to train a class." Eric tells him, shoving my hands away. "I don't think I can handle a second wife."

Jason snorts and this time I smack Eric, hard. "Funny." I tell him. "If I remember correctly, getting married was your idea."

Tris starts laughing quietly. She clicks on the screen and it changes to show a more aerial view. There's on two initiates left, and they both step forward as not to be the last one to jump. I watch as Eric grins, finally loosening the rest of my hair. He appears to have found my braid very offensive.

"I don't hear you complaining." His expression changes suddenly and he stands, nearly dumping me off his lap. "It's time for you to head down there and meet your new class." I realize the last person has jumped, and I need to go meet Four and Lauren. I feel the tiniest bit nervous, but not much. I've made it through this myself, and so can they.

 

 

The initiates stand before me, paying absolutely no attention to Four.

Their eyes are on me, each one looking at me very very hopefully, as though perhaps I have some secret as to how they can survive initiation. A few of the girls stare at me with a sort of awe and a few of the boys look me up and down a few times. Most of them have a buzzing nervousness about them. While they've survived their first task of jumping off the roof, standing inside of Dauntless is unnerving.

"It's so huge." One of them half whispers. The girl next to him nods, pulling her stare down from the high ceilings. They are both from Candor and their facial expressions do little to hide their awe.

"That's her." One boy in the back, hardly a boy, more of a man as he towers over the entire class in the same way Karl did, stares at me as though he might devour me. His stare is stuck on me and it's obvious he's not listening to Four talk.

I take note of Four's speech, nearly identical word for word as the one he gave my class. He introduces Lauren and me, and the Dauntless born look almost disheartened when Four tells them to go with her. I walk beside Four as he gives the transfers a quick tour of Dauntless, mentally checking them out.

There are a good amount from Candor, a near even split between Erudite and Abnegation, and a surprising number from Amity. I recognize a few of them; I smile reassuringly. If I can do it, so can they. Everyone follows Four until we reach the Pit and he gives them a few minutes to look around. He pulls me aside after he tells them it's in their best interest to learn the layout rather quickly.

"Way more than last year. I think we're at fifty five for this group, and fifty seven for Lauren's class." He tells me. I'm surprised, even though they are all right in front of me. It doesn't seem possible for that many of them to be milling around, but they are.

"Do we have enough room for all of them? Should I tell Eric he has to house a few of them during this training?" I joking ask Four. He grins, pleasantly surprised at my joke.

"I'll let you break that news to him." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "There's another dormitory room a few doors down. We'll have them split up. Should we assign the groups or let them split up themselves?"

I like that he's asking me. He's giving me a fair chance at being an instructor with him. "Let them split up themselves. It'll give them one a little sense of peace before the chaos starts."

Four nods. "Fair enough. Are you ready for tomorrow?"

I smile and nod. "Actually, I'm really excited."

Four grins. "Good."

 

 

Dinner is a loud affair.

The mess hall is crammed, more so than ever, with the new initiates. It feels like almost all of Dauntless has turned out to greet the new initiates. I watch as the transfers look around curiously, poking at the food on the tables and generally trying to get a feel for the place. It's weird to see them all like this; they try to stick together with who they know, but there are some that look all very much out of their element.

"Brings back memories, huh?" Peter elbows me, attempting to stand closer to Four. He seems hell bent on being seen as a part of the trainers. "Doesn't it seem like yesterday that we were sitting down there, eating our first meal in Dauntless, contemplating who would be the first one to go home."

I give him a funny look. "I don't . I ate with Eric my first night here."

Peter looks surprised and Four looks slightly uneasy at the thought. I can still remember his expression when Max had decided Eric would be the one to train me. I doubt he realized it meant that I would live with Eric.

"I didn't know Eric knew how to cook." Peter quips.

Eric comes up beside me suddenly, smirking at Peter. "I didn't know you didn't have to fulfill your patrol shift. Shouldn't you be out on the fence?"

I watch as annoyance crosses Peter's face. "I took the night off. Didn't want to miss out on seeing all the newbies."

He's interrupted by Max beginning his speech, and I listen carefully since I've never heard it before. When the cheering that follows it dies down, I make my way after Four and Eric, until we reach a table near Tori. A few of the initiates from Amity glance my way. The large boy who reminded me of Karl sits beside them, his eyes stuck on me.

The boy watches carefully when Eric reaches for me, yanking me closer to him.

I smile up at Eric, suddenly warm beneath his stare. He's not overly affectionate; in fact if you didn't know him, you'd think that he was merely moving me closer so there's more room at the table. But Eric is not that considerate.

"Do you remember eating here your first night in Dauntless?" I ask him. I reach for a plate, noticing an abundance of plain hamburgers. I wrinkle my nose wishing I was eating Eric's cooking. It seems like forever ago that he made me my first dinner here.

Eric grimaces. "I ate with Four."

I try not to laugh at the idea of Eric and Four, probably looking years younger, sitting at a table and eating their first dinner together. The idea is utterly ridiculous.

"How cute is that." I tell him, grinning and he rolls his eyes.

The roar of Dauntless only increases as the dinner goes on. There's a warm comfort to it, a familiarity now. I lean into Eric slightly, enjoying my dinner for the first time in a long time. Four and Peter join us, followed by Tris and Jeremy. I wait for Eric to tense up out of annoyance, to decide he's had enough of everyone and the noise and to pull me back upstairs with him.

But he doesn't.

He simply nudges my knee with his at the awkwardness of Tri, Jeremy and Four, and we eat our dinner with everyone in our faction.

 

 

The e-mail pops up on my new phone as I'm trying to dry my hair.

It's early; not quite as early as Eric made me get up to train, but still earlier than I'd like to be up. Eric had given me the phone after dinner. He'd said Max wanted all leaders to have one and anyone that he might want to contact directly or immediately. My phone had one phone number in it so far and it was Eric's.

Eric had helped me set my e-mails up, his fingers easily tapping away at the screen until the thing dinged loudly and six alerts flashed across the screen.

I click through it while I finish my hair, trying to hurry. It felt odd to put training clothes back on. I'd contemplated what to wear for a while. I wanted to make sure the initiates had the right idea. Sure I was their trainer, but I wanted to be able to do whatever they did. I wouldn't ask them to do something I wouldn't do myself, or find necessary. So I'd found myself throwing on leggings and a dark tank top, along with Eric's hoodie and a pair of boots.

I scroll past the e-mail from Max wishing me good luck on my first day as a trainer. Below it are three more; two from Eric asking what I'd like for dinner and what time would I be done, and one from Arlene. I click on that one, and I try not to groan as her message pops up.

It seems that I am due for a flu shot and I have a feeling it means she really just wants to know how I'm doing.

I make my way out of the bathroom and head towards the bed to say goodbye to Eric. He isn't fully awake, but he's scrolling through something on his own phone.

"You didn't reply to my e-mail." He glances up at me, and his face is nothing but seriousness.

"I was five feet away from you. You could have just asked me what I wanted for dinner." I point out. He shrugs and continues staring at his phone. He clicks a few dismissively, giving them the same sort of scowl he'd give anyone in his way. He then climbs out of bed and reaches for me, until I'm flush against him and his hands are firmly holding me in place.

"Good luck today, Amity."

I try hard to not smile at him. I have a feeling he'll call me that forever. The idea of forever with Eric makes my stomach grow warm and I rise up on my toes so I can kiss him goodbye.

"I love you, Eric. Maybe I'll see you for lunch. Maybe you can come down and scare the initiates a little bit."

Eric grins at me, his expression pleased at the idea.

"I'd like that." He announces gleefully, kissing me one more time before I head out to meet Four.


	26. The Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thank God!   
> Enjoy Enjoy Enjoy!

"You need to aim a little more to the left."

I help the girl move her arm and I can almost feel the nerves running through her. She's from Abnegation and I can tell that it's a struggle for her to put herself first. I've watched her eyes flit around the room, desperate to make sure everyone else is doing alright when the poor thing is struggling herself to punch properly.

"Your other left." I try to gently push her arm in the correct direction and she nods earnestly. She smiles at me, slightly nervous and slightly hopeful before she resumes her attempts at punching. I step back and continue to walk down the row of initiates. The group of boys that are the largest of the bunch have set up next to each other, each one trying to one up the others. Down the middle and towards the end are several smaller groups of girls and boys mixed together, all working away to mimic what they've been shown.

For the most part, the class is doing well. They are all very eager to learn, and unlike Four's previous class, there is an easiness about them. Maybe it's the mixture of guys and girls, but there seems to be a bit more balance within this group.

Of course they've paired themselves off into small groups. The strongest boys seem to gravitate towards each other, but the girls seem to stick with who they know from their prior faction. I find I have little patience for the bitchy cackles from the Candor initiates, more specifically the three girls who seem to think they've already passed the training. I'm sure they won't be so cocky once they see their upcoming scores. Nothing will knock them down a peg or two like discovering they're amongst the lowest in the class.

None of them really know just how detailed they are scored.

While Eric's scoring had been up to his own discretion, Four's class uses a very strict point system. One point for accurately performing an action, half a point for a mostly correct attempt or an honest attempt, and zero point for failure or lack of trying. They must reach a certain number of points to pass each exercise, and they must pass a certain number of exercises to even be considered for the next phase. Then they are ranked, off of a combination of their points and their general aptitude. Each of the three phases is broken down with strict goals. It sort of makes my head spin, but I figure I will just take detailed notes and make Eric help me work on the rankings.

I walk behind the group and watch carefully, marking them off as they finish up before lunch. They have about five minutes left and most are still working hard to make sure their form is correct. Four had informed them not to waste a single second of the training.

"The faster you pick up on everything, the better off you'll be." He had told them.

Four tried his best to come off intimidating and for the most part he succeeded. He was great at delivering the speeches they needed to hear and he walked through the class with his head held high and his eyes trained on the class. Though they didn't know it, he was more relaxed now that he wasn't pitted against Eric. This training was his own and he only had to make his own class succeed.

I watch him help a tall girl, her arm swinging wildly, almost knocking him in the face. He looks slightly startled, and takes a step back before she can swing again. I try not to laugh as I pause behind the group of Candor girls and pretend I'm focusing on the boys next to them.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see them standing there, rolling their eyes every time Four walks by.

"He looks like an angsty little boy." One of them, the blondest of all, snipes as he walks away. He doesn't hear her, or maybe he's just ignoring her because he knows she won't last, but the irritation starts to work its way through my veins.

"Are you girls done with your practice?" I ask them, keeping my voice sweet. For a second they share a look of guilt, but they shake it off quickly.

"We've finished." Their ring leader snaps and I simply nod and turn to the boy I've been watching. Their attitude is surprising to me, considering it's been mere days since they left everything they've ever known behind and come to a place where they might not even last.

"Keep your elbow up. You have good form, just make sure to keep it." I adjust the boy the tiniest bit, more so that I can take a step closer to the girls. They pay no attention to me though. They've picked a new target and he's walking through the door as they speak.

"Well damn, who's that? Why isn't he our trainer?" The blondest one's high pitched voice makes my inner ear hurt.

I don't even need to turn around to know Eric has arrived.

I take a step back from the boy and nod at him. "Great job." I turn to glance at the girls, but their eyes are glued in the opposite direction.

Eric strides across the room easily; his spine is pulled straight, his shoulders are back, and his lips form an ever amused smirk. I know what these girls see; because it's the same thing anyone sees when they first lay eyes on Eric.

He's tall and handsome, strong features and an even stronger attitude to match. I can just imagine the way their eyes skate over his exposed arms; his fitted clothes do little to hide how muscular he is. One of them lets out a sort of nervous giggle, her nerves becoming more exposed as he gets closer towards this side of the room. Eric's eyes narrow at the girls' hopeful expressions before they flick to mine. He must be able to read my annoyance at them, because his lips curl into a sneer. He somehow still manages to look handsome.

He ignores them, lazily walking behind a few of the other initiates, carefully studying their movements. He doesn't offer any criticism, positive or negative, but I know he's mentally taking notes. He then saunters past Four and they nod at each other somewhat civilly.

His eyes fix on mine again and he raises an eyebrow as he makes his way past the giggling idiots. I watch as their faces fall when he overlooks them completely. He stops close to me and his eyes fall on the boy in front of me. For a moment I feel for the poor soul; he's been put on the spot with my attention, and now he's got Eric focusing on him.

"Hi Eric." I tell him, taking a step closer. My arm brushes his and despite the fact that I'm married to him, the action feels slightly forbidden. I don't know how many of these initiates know exactly who Eric is, or the details of our relationship, but I get the feeling it's not very many.

"Hi Everly." He grins widely as he watches the boy punch a few more times. He says nothing as the boy continues on and he finally turns to the group of girls who are staring at him. I watch them open their eyes the tiniest bit wider, and one even has the nerve to bat her eyelashes at him while jutting out her hip.

I try not to snort.

Eric keeps his smile on his face and he zeros in on them, more specifically, the lack of training they are doing.

"Are you done?" His voice echoes through the training room, low and rich. The leader of the pack grins back, taking a step closer to him.

"We finished already. We've been waiting for someone to come watch us." She throws a look at me, one that dares me to call her out in front of her new boyfriend. I smile back sweetly and I give her ten more seconds before she realizes her mistake.

"Since you're so far ahead of the class, why don't you demonstrate what you've learned today?" Eric clasps his hands behind his back, and his voice has dropped to something that sounds acidic. Blondie falters for a second before she regains her composure. She wasn't expecting him to be interested in her training.

"Sure." She tells him and her voice sounds anything but. She turns around, awkwardly assuming the stance they've been trained to stand in, and she moves to punch at the bag. Because she's spent more time making critiquing everyone in the room and less time practicing, her punch is off. Her posture is sloppy and her elbow falls at an odd angle while her body pitches forward. She stumbles for a second before she tries to catch her balance like some sort of baby deer who's just learned to walk.

"Well that was rather unimpressive." Eric snarls.

I can see the panic flood through her minions next to her. They each take a step back, as if they could hide from Eric. But though the training room is spacious, there's nowhere for them to go. Everyone in the class has stopped, their eyes now fixed on them.

"Are you two leaving? I believe you said you were waiting for someone to watch you. Well I'm watching." He tells them, and a chill runs up my spine. He sounds vicious, almost as though he enjoys being nasty. I can tell they are suddenly unsure of themselves.

They shake their heads and swallow nervously. "You want us to punch the bags?" One manages to ask him. She's less blonde than her friends, but hardly any nicer.

I can just picture the unamused look that must be crossing Eric's face. "No, I thought you could just tell me about them."

The boy in front of me lets out a bark of laughter, and I quickly turn to him and elbow him out of the way. He's doing well, and I don't want him to draw attention to himself. The girls shoot us a dirty look, and it might just be their undoing.

Eric takes a step towards them.

"Tell me something, initiates. Do you remember the speech Four gave you when you first came here?"

They stare at him blankly before one of them nods.

"I'm going to suggest you focus on that. You chose to come to Dauntless and now we get to choose if you stay. And if you think you'll make it here with anything less than what we consider perfection, you're wrong. You'll be factionless before you know it." He snaps at them, and his words are heavy in the air.

"If we don't pass the training we're factionless?" One of them asks, her voice rising up. "When did that become a rule?"

"It's been a rule for a while now." Eric tells her.

She bites at her lip, her whole face scrunching up. "Somebody should have told us."

"Why?" Eric snarls at her. "Would you have chosen differently? Out of fear? Because if that's the case you might as well get out now. Because if you're really one of us, it won't matter that you might fail."

The leader of their group looks miserable now; her jaw is slack and her eyes flit to me nervously. I can only look at her with mock sympathy. She averts her gaze quickly, realizing she's just made an idiot out of herself, and focuses back on Eric.

Eric smirks in their general direction, and I can tell this is hardly the attention they were hoping to get from him. He turns to the one who had been glaring at me and points his finger at her.

"You better watch yourselves. We train soldiers here, not rebels. Now get out. We're done for the morning."

I can tell he's scared the entire class, because they are very very quiet as they file out for lunch.

 

 

Eric finds me in the mess hall, his face stretched into a wide shit eating grin.

He's watching the class nervously find seats as they scuttle by him, and I can tell it will be a quiet afternoon. I make my way towards Eric, surprised to find Four heading in the same direction. He stops for a second; he's pulled aside by a girl from Abnegation who looks terrified to even talk to him. I watch her tilt her head at up him, her long blonde hair falling from its ponytail and making her look much younger than eighteen.

Eric's arm slides around my waist and he gracelessly yanks me with him back. I find myself being pulled out through the mess hall doors and before I can ask him where we are going, his mouth is against mine.

I will never quite get used to the feeling of kissing Eric. His lips are warm and rough, and he walks me back a step until I bump into the smoothest section of the wall.

"I forgot how much I like the way you look in your training clothes." His voice is low, spoken only so I can hear him. I feel like my cheeks flush at his words, and it only increases as his large hands slide under the fabric of my tank top. "It's really good to see you like this again."

I laugh against him, mostly because his mouth is on my neck, hitting a spot that tickles. He pushes me further into the wall, his mouth continuing its exploration.

"Eric, I'm going to miss lunch." I protest, but it's a feeble excuse. He knows full well I would stay here all day with him. I feel his teeth close around my skin, his body flush against mine, his large frame completely over shadowing me. He then moves back to my lips, his nose brushing past mine until I can feel his eyelashes against my skin.

"Fine." He answers, his face suddenly sulky. He kisses me once more, rougher and impatiently demanding, before he breaks apart from me slightly. He looks down at me, his grey eyes warm and he swallows before he kisses my cheek in an abnormally soft way.

"I'll miss you." Eric smirks the words, and then he's gone, his great form retreating towards the elevators before I can answer.

My cheek burns through the rest of my lunch, and I swear I feel like I've developed a terrible crush, except it's on my own husband.

 

 

The girl from Abnegation's name is Stella, and after lunch she has a complete and utter meltdown.

I watch as she crumples, her whole body seeming to collapse upon itself, as soon as she sees she's expected to fight against her friends. I kneel down besides her, smoothing her damp sticky hair out of her eyes and I try to soften the blow that this is what's expected. She's chosen the faction that fights for the city, and she won't last long if she can't make it through one practice fight.

"They said we have to fight each other. I can't punch Vincent. He's been my friend since I was four." Her eyes are watery, and she stares up at me pleadingly. "I don't want to fight him. I just can't do it!"

"Think of it this way, you have to learn to defend yourself. This is just the first step. It's not just about beating up your opponent." I wipe her cheeks off and she still looks crushed. For a moment I contemplate asking Four if it's an absolutely possibility that she will eventually wind up fighting her friend. I glance over at him to find that he's watching us curiously. I motion for him to come over, and he nods, looking stern.

Well, he tries to look stern.

I can see he's worried about the girl. It's etched in his features, especially around his eyes. He stops besides us and crouches down low enough that we can talk without being over heard.

"Keep going. Fifteen more minutes until we run." He calls out to the rest of the class before turning his attention to us. He looks at Stella and then me. "You need to go to the infirmary?" He's asking Stella but he's still looking at me. I shake my head and smile at Stella.

"She just needs a minute. I thought maybe you could walk her to the drinking fountain? Give her a breather."

Four looks at me suspiciously, but he reaches his hand out and Stella stares up at him. She takes it gratefully, letting him help her up and they stand, staring at each other for a long moment. I can't help but feel slightly awkward as neither of them move, so I'm glad when one of the boys gets whacked in the back of the head with the rebound of the punching bag.

"Carson! Pay attention!" I yell out. I head over to make sure he doesn't have a concussion, and I throw Four and Stella one final look. He's walking with her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touch, their hands occasionally brushing against each other.

 

 

Arlene is behind schedule.

The infirmary is rather busy, bustling with initiates who just haven't quite gotten the hang of things. There are a few from Lauren's class who have managed to bloody themselves already, and a couple from my own class who passed out early this morning after our first run.

Arlene waves me over into a small room and eyes me carefully.

"How are you holding up?" She's staring at me critically and I can tell she means since my father's passing. Her concern is welcome, sort of.

"I'm doing well, Arlene. Promise." I watch as she wipes my arm off with an alcohol soaked pad, and she makes her way over the tray on the counter. She picks up one of the needles with a blue label on it and frowns.

"Hold on a second. You're due for one more." She purses her lips and steps out for a second. I sigh, enjoying the silence. The afternoon had flown by and this was my last stop before I was to head home.

Arlene reappears with three shots in her hand; all of them have a similar label on them. She lines them up on a tray; the first two are blue and the final one is green.

"Sorry about that. It's been pure chaos in here today. It seems like once the training classes start it's nothing but a constant stream of people." She announces, snapping on a pair of gloves. She administers the first one quickly, and I hardly feel the needle slide into my arm. She sets it down beside the other two, and moves to pick up the second syringe.

"Arlene! Code Six! We got a broken leg and a fractured rib! Someone from Lauren's class fell down the stairs." The words ring out loud and clear, and Arlene hesitates for a second.

"Take them to bed three." She yells back. She sets the syringe down and takes her gloves off. "I'm going to fetch one of the nurses. They'll finish you up. We'll catch up in a few days." She tells me. She shoves her glasses up nose and she's out the door before I can response.

A few minutes later the nurse appears. He's tall and tan, his hair perfectly combed to the side.

"I'm Kyle. I'm gonna finish up for Arlene." He walks over, and flips through the chart quickly. "Nice to meet you Mrs…." He hesitates for a second before he looks over at me, his stare curious. "Coulter."

"Nice to meet you, too." I tell him. He picks up the second blue needle and injects it easily, watching me closely.

"I'd heard Eric was married. I didn't know it was true." He says breezily. He picks up the final shot, but before he can administer it, Arlene peeks her head back in the room.

"Kyle, I need your help for a second. It'll be quick. I need you to help set this leg." She's out the door before he can protest and he obediently follows after her without saying anything.

I lean back against the wall and close my eyes. I'm not really thrilled about all the shots. Growing up in Amity had meant we followed a more holistic approach to health and wellness. And while wasn't always the greatest idea, these vaccines typically make me feel like garbage for a few hours after.

I idly wonder what Eric's doing, and if he's home yet. I want nothing more than to eat dinner and crawl into bed with him. Tomorrow is a relatively easy day, and both classes are scheduled to spend the morning sparring. I really hope it goes well. While some of the initiates have a basic concept of fighting, most of them don't. Four will demonstrate a few of the moves their expected to know and I'll score them individually.

I open my eyes when the door open, surprised to see Molly there.

"Hi Everly. I'm gonna finish up here. It's chaos out there and Arlene doesn't want you stuck around here forever." She makes her way towards me, a smile on her face.

"Sure." I tell her, ready to leave.

She wipes my arm off again, and I swear she's done before I even have time to register her reaching for the syringe. She sets it down on the tray and frowns for a second before she puts a band aid over my arm.

"Everything ok?" I ask her. I slide off the table, shrugging Eric's hoodie back on.

"Yeah, oh yeah fine." She tells me, finally smiling. She makes a few checks on my chart, and then she ushers me out the door before I can look back.

The infirmary is busier than ever and I'm glad to be leaving.

 

 

My phone won't stop dinging.

I glare at it from my spot on the bed. Eric is busy taking a shower, and I have no idea how to turn the thing off. I sigh, grabbing it from the night stand and try to click on the icons in hopes of turning it off. Instead it simply beeps louder, and I groan in frustration. I'd felt the effects of the vaccine about an hour after I got home. Luckily for me, dinner was waiting and Eric was more than happy to head to bed.

I click on everything I can think of- email, messages, settings, and even the clock icon. After effectively setting the date to sometime next week, Eric appears from the bathroom, shirtless and rubbing his hair with a towel.

"Did you check your e-mails?" He asks, grabbing a comb from the dresser. I watch as he methodically combs his hair back, smoothing everything wavy into submission. He then undoes the towel off his waist and steps into his boxers.

"I don't know. The thing keeps beeping." I glare at it again, wondering who on Earth so desperately needs my attention. The dinging is only making my head hurt worse.

Eric sits on the bed next to me, taking the phone from me. He stares at it for a moment, frowning.

"Why does your phone say it's next Thursday?" He looks at me, his face now slightly amused. "You have a voicemail. That's why it keeps beeping."

I shrug at him and roll my eyes. "Who knows." He clicks a few buttons before the message begins to play. It's from Four, and he's asked me if I would mind pairing up the initiates for their matches. Eric sneers and deletes the message.

"Is Four too busy with his new girlfriend to do his own job?"

I shake my head and frown.

I know he's talking about Four and Stella, and I suddenly regret mentioning them. I struggle with the urge to remind Eric that it's alright for others to be happy. I know he and Four don't get along, but I found the interaction between Four and Stella to be sort of sweet. Besides, Four simply walked her to get a drink. I didn't see anything remotely scandalous about that.

"Don't be mean to them." I tell him, yanking the phone back from him. "She's just a little nervous about the fighting."

Eric stares at me, his grey eyes suddenly icy. "She better get over it fast if she wants to stay."

I ignore him. Eric will never like anyone whom he thinks is weak, and I can tell he's not very impressed by Stella so far. And he wasn't even in the room when she had her meltdown. I lean into him, scooting closer until my back is mostly against his chest. "I think she will." I tap aimlessly at the phone until Eric sighs beside me.

"How do I take a picture?" I ask him.

"Click on the bottom left icon." He answers. I can feel one of his hands make its way into my hair. His nails scrape against my scalp for a moment, the sensation all too pleasant. Much sooner than I'd like, his hands slide down the ends, and he twirls a piece of my hair almost absentmindedly. "Do you want me to help you match them up?"

I turn to smile at him, nodding my head. "Yes, please."

Eric smirks and I lean into him, holding the phone up. A mirror image of us appears on the screen; myself leaning into Eric, his expression pleased and smug. He almost grins and his eyes have a hint of amused exasperation to them.

"You gonna show this picture to all your friends?" He drawls, his voice low in my ear.

I giggle as I snap the photo, and Eric's bare chest winds up taking up most of the frame.

"Stop, you made me mess up. And no, just Four. You missed that part of the message where he asked for me to bring him a photo tomorrow. In case it doesn't work out between him and Stella." I inform him. I shove into him, and he laughs. I snap another picture, and this time, the photo captures Eric's face in a rare, wide smile.

 

 

The large boys name is Colton, and it comes as little surprise to me when he nearly beats the living daylights out of his opponent.

"This is just practice." Four reminds him, his voice firm. "We just need to see where your skills are at."

Colton's opponent groans from the mat, lifting his head in agony. "I think you broke my face." He moans.

Four and I exchange a look. "Someone help Michael get up. Colton come over here." I tell him. He ambles over to me, looking proud of himself.

The class has done really well this morning. Eric had helped me pair them up easily; he'd observed enough from his walk through the training room, and he'd been spot on with each pairing. He'd mercifully paired up Stella with a girl named Kelly who seemed confused how she'd even wound up in Dauntless. I hadn't questioned him on it; had I asked him, he'd simply say something about their skill levels being on par and that he certainly wasn't doing her any favors.

I liked to think he was.

Colton comes to a halt in front of me, looming large and intimidating. I stare at him for a second, trying to imagine what I would do if I was fighting him. He's large and muscular, but everyone has a weakness. The smug grin on his face makes me think I'd probably kick him in the balls to start.

"Yes?" He asks, his voice dripping with arrogance. It's a funny thing that some of them seem to adapt so easily. Colton seems to think he's got this in the bag.

"Did you listen to the instructions this morning?" I ask him. He blinks at me for a moment before he nods. "This is a practice match. You'll have your chance to really fight in a few days." I tell him. He looks at me, his stare now bordering on boredom.

"I thought you wanted to see what I can do." He has the audacity to wink at me, and his words are flippant in tone. "Besides, this is too easy. I already know how to fight."

I ignore his wink and try very hard not to lose my cool. "Who taught you how to fight?" I ask him.

He grins, pleased at my interest. "I've been fighting for years. I've been waiting to choose Dauntless since I could walk." He stares at me, his brown eyes looking down at me. "I'd like to fight you."

For a moment my heart stops, not out of fear. I've fought Eric enough times to know that I could take Colton down. But it stops at the look on Four's face. He's been listening to the exchange with his head cocked to the side, one eye on the class. I watch his lips part to say something as his expression changes to panic.

I smile up at Colton. "I'm sure you would. But that's not what we're working on right now." I keep my voice cheerful, letting him know I'm not afraid of him. There's something off about him and this whole conversation, but I need to corral his focus back to the class. "I'd like to suggest you head back and listen to what Four's asked you to do. You're being scored on this, you know." I tell him.

Colton looks unimpressed at my words.

"Four is well aware of how I fight." He tells him, his voice low and threatening. "In fact, I've learned most of my fighting from him."

I resist the unconscious urge to take a step back. This boy is far too young for Four to have trained him in the past, even if they had been some the same faction. Four must catch the look on my face because he takes one step off the mat.

"Everly." He calls out but I can't respond. Colton takes a step in front of me until I'm hidden behind him.

"Where's Eric?" He asks, his eyes dark. "I hear you and him have a very close relationship."

I ignore him and I take a step closer until I can glare at him. "You're out of line, initiate." I snap. "Get back to your class and start paying attention to what you're told to do."

Colton's expression changes to something of complacence and he takes a step back. "Yes, ma'm." He answers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I don't feel any satisfaction when walks back towards the class, instead I mostly feel a sense of dread run through my veins. Four throws me a concerned look, and I brush it off. I'll find him later and ask him about Colton's words.

 

 

When the class finishes for the day, they all look sweaty and worn out.

Stella managed to stay on her feet for most of the fight, and I watch her glance hopefully at Four before she makes her way out of the training room. He doesn't catch her glance though. He's making his way towards me, papers in hand.

"Everly, do you want to go over these tonight?" I know what's in his hands. It's the notes from today, written in his barely legible handwriting. I nod at him, reaching for the papers. When he's close enough I grab his arm instead.

"Are you and Colton from the same faction? He said he knew you." I tell him. Four looks confused and he shakes his head.

"I've never seen him before." He answers me, and his eyes look anywhere but mine.

I don't believe him, but I don't ask him anything else.

 

 

Eric looks irritated when I tell him about Colton.

"What did he say to you?" His voice has taken on this low, dangerous tone that I've heard him use right before he snaps. "That he wanted to fight you?" He's sitting across from me at our dinner table, and his jaw looks tense enough to lock in place. "Was he appropriately disciplined?"

I shake my head, taking a bite of spaghetti. I try to avoid my eyes from him, knowing that his stare is more intense than normal. Truth be told I don't know if he should have been disciplined. He'd been mouthy but that was it. He hadn't outright threatened me, and he'd listened when I'd sent him back to the class. Maybe I should have asked Four.

"Everly." He snaps my name until I look back up at him. "I asked you a question."

I can tell something is bothering him, more than just Colton. His shoulders are tensed up high and his neck looks stiffer than ever. I don't really want to answer him. It seems like it will only made him angrier, and I really want to just curl up against him and close my eyes. The whole ordeal has left me feeling shitty, like maybe I should have done more with Colton.

So I don't answer him. I simply stare back at him, and my expression must rather downcast because his eyes soften.

"I just want to make sure he knows his place." Eric holds my stare, now frowning. "I don't want him to think he would ever have a chance at hurting you."

I swallow and stare at the noodles on my plate. I don't want Eric to think I can't handle the class, and I can't help but feel like Colton might be more than I can handle. When I don't look up, I hear him push his chair back and stand. Eric comes around the table, and he pulls at my hands until I look up at him.

"He knows. Don't worry." I tell him. He pulls me up easily, until I'm facing him. Eric's hands slide around my back, pulling me close to him until I'm against his chest.

"I don't want anyone to hurt you. Ever. You know that." Eric's words are quiet, and if I wasn't listening hard I might not hear them at all. "I don't have any doubts about you training them. I just want you to be careful. You're not exactly intimidating looking." I nod against his chest, relief blooming throughout me. Somehow Eric thinking I don't know what I'm doing is worse than had Colton actually tried to do anything.

"Thank you." I whisper and he lets me go all too soon.

Eric stares down at me, his face serious and tight. "I'll do a little research on him. I'll figure out what his deal is. I can have Jason look into it tomorrow." Eric pushes my hair off my face and his eyes land on mine. I smile up at him, feeling slightly better now.

"Can he do that?" I ask. My arms are still around his waist and I hold on tightly.

Eric nods. "If I tell him to."

He pauses for a second as though he's lost in his own thoughts, then he bends down to kiss me until I forget all about Colton.

 

 

A week later I wish I'd disciplined Colton. Or had Eric storm down and beat the shit out of him.

I lag behind the class, counting them as they walk along on their way to lunch. Colton trails behind me, having been the last one off the mat. He's starting to grate on my nerves. His mouthy outbursts have only increased, and he seems determined to let everyone know that he finds this training pointless.

We walk down the hallway towards the mess hall and he makes sure he knocks into me, causing me to trip for a brief second. He grabs my arms with force, and bends down, hissing in my ear.

"I heard you're married to Eric. Which is absolutely perfect. It means he'll follow after you."

I don't have a chance to respond in any way. He clamps one hand over my mouth, and shoves me into the wall, until my head smacks into it with a loud thud.


	27. The Lowest Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday.
> 
> Also, I swear on Jai Courtney's darling face and flawless hair, this story has a happy ending.

He slams my head into the wall again and again.

It's not long before the stars burst in front of my eyes.

They flash prettily for a moment before the throbbing starts and my vision swims as though I've dropped beneath murky water.

It's unfair really.

In all the time I'd ever wondered about death, I'd never thought that it'd happen in a dark hallway, by some manboy who I'd known for less than two weeks. I weakly reach up to my head, hoping to stop the burst of pain or to protect myself, but it's useless.

I can do nothing more than to close my eyes and wish for Eric.

 

 

I jerk back to consciousness after what feels like days, but in reality is mere minutes.

Colton has my arm, his grip still painfully tight as he jerks hard enough to that my bones seem to shift unnaturally. I groan as I come too, trying to steady myself despite his constant movement. He begins dragging me down the hallway, one arm now around my waist in an attempt to keep me somewhat upright. I can hear him murmuring to anyone that looks at him.

"She's not feeling well. Four told me to take her to the infirmary, but she keeps protesting. She got into it with an initiate."

I can hear his fakely sympathetic voice, the soothing tone that's aimed to dismiss anyone's curiosity. I want to scream. I don't know if anyone has noticed that I'm not entirely coherent, but I hope that someone can see that something is wrong.

The only reason I don't scream because I need a plan. Colton is walking briskly through the halls, and it's obvious he doesn't quite know where he's going. I can only hope that this buys me time to think of a way out. I struggle slightly, trying to steady myself somewhat. At the resistance, Colton yanks me against him and I try to stay half limp so he doesn't realize I'm not entirely passed out.

I choke back the hot tears that are forming, willing them to stay away for a few more minutes. I just need him to get to a more crowded area and then I can try to break away from him. My brain is whirling, trying to think of something. My chances of breaking free will be better if he's distracted. I catch sight of the small red dot above an entry way and my heart soars.

Someone has to be watching the cameras. Someone should have alerted Eric by now.

My chest tightens uncomfortably at the thought of not seeing him again. Of being used against him in whatever Colton was sent to carry out. I should have gone with my gut feeling that something was wrong. I should have told Eric more, I should have asked him to come with me, admitted that I was scared even though it felt stupid to be afraid of an initiate.

I try to swallow down all of my feeling because I need to stay strong to survive.

Colton takes a sudden left and I have the advantage of know exactly where he's going. He was probably hoping he'd be close to an exit way now, but instead he's walked us right towards the Pit. He tries to avoid it; I can hear the low roar of everyone milling around in it and he hesitates as it grows louder. I can tell he doesn't know where to go.

It doesn't stop him though.

He simply pushes past it, until we are heading down a hallway that is long and dark. The panic is welling in my chest, thick and heavy as he speeds up. It's now or never. I give up trying to play dead and I jerk against him, attempting to break free.

He doesn't appreciate my consciousness.

It only takes him a second to slam me back into the wall, the side of my skull painfully raw now. Colton pauses only to yank a door open. I try to hold it together as the room whirls, sliding sideways.

Steps later, the bright sunlight greets my face, the air still crisp and cold. I can't help but shiver, my whole body tightening up in defense of the icy air. Colton drags me with him for another step before he picks me up, using my dizziness his advantage, and gracelessly throws me over his shoulder.

I can hear someone yelling my name, their voice unfamiliar and hurried. I try to lift my head up with a final attempt to help myself, but it's useless.

The last thing I see before my vision darkens is the upside down outside of the Dauntless walls, and the patrol guards that are rushing after us.

 

 

Someone brushes hair off my forehead, and the touch is downright motherly.

"I said bring her to me alive, Vincent. Not half dead." The cool hands stroke across my cheek and tuck hair behind my ear. "She's no use to us if he doesn't want her back."

I can't open my eyes because everything hurts, much worse than when James attacked me. The pain in the back of my skull is so intense that I fear I might be sick, so I keep my eyes screwed shut and I let myself fall back asleep.

 

 

I awake sometime later, not knowing what day it is or how long I've been asleep. For one hopeful moment I think I'm in the infirmary in Dauntless. I wait for Arlene to burst through the door, telling me she's taken me to some special area and Eric will be here any minute. She'll then make a comment about our relationship and he'll grimace in displeasure.

Instead I open my eyes to a darkly wood paneled room; the bed and sheets are unfamiliar, and someone has done me the honors of dressing me in some oversized sweater and pajama pants. They fit far too loosely, and the sleeves pass my fingertips. I push the covers back hesitantly. My head still feels raw, like someone tried to rearrange the insides with a spoon, but it's better than it was. I gingerly touch the side of it, cringing at the bump I find.

I'm in no shape to fight off anyone, but if I see Colton, I certainly won't hesitate to try to kill him.

I slide out of the bed and stand unsteadily. It takes a minute for me to keep my balance, and I glance around the room. It's on the smaller side and sparsely decorated. There's a bookshelf crammed with what looks like old, rotten books, a small desk shoved up against one wall, and a few lamps that are placed here and there. There is no overhead lighting, and the room is chilly.

I wrap my arms around myself and make my way towards the door.

I have no idea where I am but one thing is for sure, I can't stay here. I need to get out of here, back home to Eric and back to my class. I'll make sure Colton is disciplined properly and I'll make sure I bring Eric down there with me. Things will then go back to normal and the rest of my class will run smoothly.

I turn the knob hesitantly; to my surprise it opens easily and the floorboards creak as I step out into the hallway. It becomes painfully obvious that I'm no longer in Dauntless; the hallways share a same darkness and a breeziness, but these floors are a mixture of dirt and wood. There is a damp smell in the air, as though we are far below the ground and buried beneath damp soil.

I shiver at the idea.

I reach the end of the hallway and come to an opening. I hesitate for a moment, pausing only to see if there are any better options, but there are none. I peer out over the edge of the railing, and my heart sinks. The opening gives way to a large area, over run with factionless. They are working noisily; some are prowling around with weapons, the shiny guns gleaming even in the low lighting. Some are carrying large piles of raw materials, and a few are shoving each other and laughing, engrossed in some sort of rough play fighting.

They all look similar; tough and worn clothing with small tokens of their former factions. There are plenty who have pops of black and maroon, several shades of greys and white, and even a few darkened shades of yellows. I pull at the sleeves of my sweater. I don't recognize any of their faces, but they all share a dark determination.

A hand lands on my arm and my eyes fly to the woman standing beside me. Her long dark hair hangs loosely past her shoulders, and she's wearing a worn leather jacket.

For a moment I can only stare at her, my eyes widening when I realize she looks slightly familiar to me.

 

 

"Are you feeling any better?" She asks me.

I'm seated at a large table in what appears to be her make shift dining room. I've learned a few things so far; her name is Evelyn and her son's name is Tobias. I didn't recognize either name. I watch her carefully. She'd waiting patiently for me response. So I simply shrugged and continue to slowly eat the food she'd set in front of me.

I didn't want to, for who knows what she could have put in it, but I had little choice. I needed to gain some strength to get out of here, and not eating anything wasn't going to help. I chew my turkey several times before I swallow it, listening patiently to her.

"There's a war starting." She takes a sip of her wine, her brown eyes fixed on me. "And you're right in the middle of it." She sets her glass down and leans forward until she can rest her chin on her fingertips. "Are you aware of what Jeanine is planning?"

I shake my head. I haven't said anything to her for I don't want her to have anything to use against me. She eyes me curiously, her face registering mostly disbelief.

"I have a hard time believing Eric hasn't clued you in on what he's been working on." Her tone is light but there's a weight to her words. "I didn't think he'd keep his wife in the dark."

She says the word wife with a tiny bit of disgust. I finally look up at her and swallow.

"The only person keeping me in the dark is you. I'd like to go home. Now." I take a drink of the water, trying to summon up the courage to ask her where Colton is. Why she sent him after me.

Evelyn smiles. "I'm afraid you can't go just yet. You see, I need your help and you need my help."

"I don't need your help." I tell her. I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms.

"Oh, but you do." She tells me. She looks slightly entertained now. "Your very own husband is the one that's carrying out Jeanine's orders. And what will you do when you become one of those orders? When you wake up and you're the final one he's to bring before her?"

"He wouldn't." I snap, my words sharp. "He wouldn't hurt me."

Evelyn shrugs as my response. "He won't have a choice. It's the way she works. She's the reason you're in this predicament." Her words hang in the air, and I know she means Jeanine.

"In that aspect, you do need my help. So I'd like to make you a little deal. You're going to bring him here, and he's going to offer up protection for the factionless. We have a voice, one that deserves to be heard. We'll take care of Jeanine, and you and Eric will be free from her orders."

I stare at her for a long time before I shake my head. My stomach is in knots, my insides tangling up the more she talks.

"I'll let Eric know you're here. He'll have a few days to convince Dauntless to help us take out Jeanine and when he does, you'll be free to return home with your little monster of a husband."

"And what if he doesn't?" I look down at my plate, trying to keep from crying. I can feel the hot burn of tears behind my eyes starting, but I refuse to cry in front of her.

Evelyn stares at me for a long moment, her lips twisting into a pleasant grin. "Then we'll inject you with a little something your husband has helped Jeanine work on. A serum that will wipe your memory clean from everything, and we'll let you walk out of here free as can be."

 

 

Colton's real name is Vincent, and he's hardly a teenager.

He leers at me as I walk by with Evelyn, his whole body angled towards mine.

"Apologies that he hurt you." She tells me, her hand on my shoulder to guide me along. "His instructions were to bring you back unharmed." She frowns slightly, her brown eyes looking downward. "We are not one for unnecessary violence here. But he didn't think you'd come willingly."

I keep quiet.

"Tobias told me to stay away from you." She tells me, pushing me along. We're walking through a sort of underground city, the buildings seeming to burst out of nowhere. "He didn't think you meant enough to Eric for him to come after you. Of course, that was a few months ago. My son hasn't had time to visit now that he's back training the initiates."

In that moment, as my fingertips trail along a row of bricks, do I realize that her son is Four.

 

 

I take a bath to try and stop my limbs from shaking.

It's cold here, just as cold as Dauntless, and I want Eric.

My heart feels heavy, like lead in my chest, beating uselessly against my ribs. I let my head fall forward as my eyes start to burn. I still can't understand how no one from Dauntless didn't stop Colton. Or how none of the guards were able to catch him. I wipe at my eyes, pushing my palms against them. I can only hope Eric has an idea of how to get out of this.

Because I don't.

 

 

I spend the next few days with Evelyn.

She spends a lot of time talking about Four, and how she had escaped from his father. I try to imagine Four being left behind; nothing more than a young child trying to survive in his very own home. It makes my stomach hurt to listen to her talk. Her tone is almost flippant, as though she sees little issue with him being left behind. I sigh, as I realize she'll be no better of a leader than Jeanine.

"You just left him there?" I ask her, my voice flat. She's served me breakfast, eggs and toast, and I try to swallow it down the best I can. "Why didn't you take him with you?"

Evelyn shakes her head back and forth. Her eyes remind of Four's, not just because they share the same color.

"Being factionless is no way for a boy to grow up. I wanted him to have the option to choose. Hope for a better life." She waves her fork at me. "After this is all over, I plan to do away with the faction system. It's a flawed way of thinking. Outdated. It's time we live in real peace." She stops to stare. "Don't you agree?"

I swallow down my juice and shrug.

She's slightly scary when she talks like this.

She's spent the past few hours talking about life outside of factions, life outside the walls, and life outside of systems. She longs for quite the opposite of the basis of our whole city. Rather than neat order, she'd prefer a kaleidoscope of citizens in each area. Living where ever they please, doing whatever they chose.

The idea is romantic in notion, and I don't wholly disagree with it. I just don't agree with her methods of getting there. She's no better than Jeanine; she's just using a different version of manipulation. Her plan to remove any sort of authority of the remaining faction leaders is terrifying. Leaving her alone as the one official city leader is unnerving. If she's capable of pulling this off, what else is she capable of?

"Have you heard from Eric?" I try to change the subject. I stab at my eggs, sliding them around the plate.

She shakes her head, but she doesn't look bothered. "He's got a few more days to respond. I'm sure he's weighing his options carefully." She takes a long drink of her coffee, her eyes flashing to me. "Does it bother you that he didn't just rush right over here?"

I don't answer her, mostly because I can't. As much as I wanted Eric to storm into this shit hole and blow the entire thing up, I know he has his reasons for not coming to my rescue. The thought of Eric, attempting to convince an entire faction to fight against another faction for the sake of some girl, is beyond anything one could ask for. I'm sure he could snap the order and most of Dauntless would fall into line with him, but Evelyn has asked him to challenge the entire faction system. It goes against everything Eric stands for.

"I wouldn't worry." Evelyn says lightly. "I'm sure we'll have an answer soon."

I don't eat the rest of my breakfast.

 

 

Night falls and I find myself back in my room. The doors been locked from the outside, but it doesn't matter. Everyone here knows who I am, and walking out through the compound unnoticed is out of the question. I roam the around the bed restlessly, my eyes taking in everything in the small room.

They fall upon the window.

It's nailed shut, the panes glued in place and the glass smeared with grime. I come to a half in front of it, wishing I had something I could use to break it. But there's nothing in this room except softened books and worn bedding.

There are a few stars in the sky, twinkling faintly amongst the inky night.

I stare at them for a long time, wondering if Eric can see them too.

 

 

Three days pass before a letter arrives.

Evelyn opens up the envelope on the table. Whatever they have sent has arrived in a tan colored envelope and it bears the Dauntless logo on the back of it. She slices the seal open, easily tearing through the flames. I watch her pull out a piece of paper, her eyes skimming down the page until the very bottom.

She says nothing, but she slides the paper to me before abruptly standing.

"I'll let you read it." She excuses herself with little else, and she leaves the room quietly.

I take the paper in my hand, unfolding it and forcing myself to read the first sentence.

_As a faction, we must respectfully decline your offer._

I don't read any more. Eric's neat signature is at the bottom, along with Max, Tori, and Jeremy's.

The tears burn my eyes as though they are acid, and I can't help the shaky gasp that I let out. He said no. Eric said no, and then signed the letter along with the other leaders.

I almost can't breathe, the suddenly weight of his decision crushing my chest as though someone has tightened their hands around my lungs from the inside. It is physically painful, and I shove the letter away from me.

_Be careful._

Four's words burst into my mind. I can still remember his stoic warning, the way his eyes had watched me worriedly, demanding the very proof he didn't need about Eric and I. Four knew; he'd seen what the factionless were planning, and he'd known that Eric was caught in the middle of it. He'd tried to warn me. In his own noble and awkward way, Four had tried to prove his own words wrong.

But he was right.

Eric had made his decision, and very clearly dismissed my well-being, not only as his wife, but as a member of the Dauntless faction. His actions sting, much worse than had he physically struck me. He had promised he would never hurt me, and I can't think of a worse way for him to prove Four right.

It's what one would expect from him, and maybe I was just too stupid to think otherwise.

 

 

Evelyn doesn't seem thrown off by Eric's refusal.

She stalks back in the room, staring at my frozen position in the chair. I can't bring myself to move. I wait for her to announce that this is it, that she's ready to wage her own war, and follow through with her threats. I can't even be sure if a memory erasing serum exists, but there is no doubt in my mind that it could.

She stops before me, her dark eyes flashing for a moment.

"He has twenty four hours before we plan on heading to Erudite. If he's not here by then, we'll wipe your mind clean and you'll fight alongside us."

Her words are brisk and undeterred, and she leaves the room before I can answer.

 

 

Since I am now mostly useless to the factionless, I'm allowed to walk around the compound freely. I keep my arms wrapped tightly around my waist, trying to keep warm. I pass by the rows of doors and into a looming common area. It is large and lofty, the entire area open and swarming with factionless. There is warmness here, but it mostly comes from their own comradery.

I take a seat at a long table off to the side, watching a group of factionless men mock fight each other. Their fighting style is similar to the one taught to the Dauntless initiates, and I can almost see Four's influence on it. They practice back and forth, their movements precise and lethal.

I don't know if they will be able to get close enough to Jeanine, but it's obvious they are ready.

Someone slides into the seat next to me, and I jerk away when my eyes fall on Landon. My stomach drops unpleasantly at the sight of him. The last time I saw him he'd spewed one final hate filled speech at me before I left Amity. But he is hesitant now; he holds his palms up and he speaks slowly, as though I might attack him if any move he makes is too fast.

"I can help you." His words are a quiet whisper, and I hold back the bark of laughter that's threatening in my throat.

"Why on Earth would I even begin to trust you?" I ask him, only half caring about his answer. "Why are you even here?"

Landon sighs heavily, scratching at the back of his neck. He looks less angry now, more subdued in this environment. I knew something was wrong the minute he yelled at me in Amity. He'd never been less like Landon than the past few time I'd seen him.

"I left Amity." He tells me, his eyes intense. "You chose Dauntless and I felt lost. I never expected you to leave, and the thought living without you was too much to deal with." He pauses, flexing his hands. His knuckles and bruise and raw. "I wandered out of the fields one day and I found someone messing around with a few of the irrigation systems. The guy told me he worked with Jeanine and he was looking people to help ensure a better future for the city. I had nothing else to do, so I went with it."

I stare at him, my eyes hard and narrow.

"I worked with Erudite for a while. They'd helped Amity with the irrigation for a long time, trying to find the best ways to utilize the resources, so I didn't think anything of it. It wasn't until a few them hinted that there would be more than purified water coming through the pipes that I noticed something was up."

Landon stops, his eyes falling down. "I noticed it every time I ate with them. I'd felt weird for weeks. Every time I saw you or heard your name, I was filled with a rage that I couldn't stop. I felt like I was standing beside myself, watching hatred rush through me. Seeing you with Eric didn't help." He hesitates before he speaks again.

"Every time he was with you, he looked at you like he was utterly lost in you. Like he'd already won some war, and you were the prize he'd been after. I couldn't stand it. I'd had that once, with you." Landon smiles sadly. "The last time I saw you, I knew you were in danger. I stopped working with Erudite a few weeks ago. I left Amity and came here after I heard that Evelyn was trying to take Jeanine down."

"What is Jeanine trying to do?" I finally ask him. My voice sounds hoarse.

"She's putting her serums in the water. It works as some mind control once ingested. She'll be able to program everyone's minds to do whatever she pleases. It's an easy way for her to control the factions. It doesn't work on anyone who exhibits divergence from their faction, and she can take them out one by one."

I nod at him, discomfort creeping into my bones. "And how can you help me?

Landon stares at me for a moment. "I can help you stay alive. At least until you can get back to Eric."

I look at him in surprise. "What makes you think Eric's coming? He sent Evelyn a letter staying Dauntless wasn't helping her."

Landon shakes his head at me. "I work as a guard sometimes. I drive the surrounding factions, looking for potential threats against the city and I report them back here. I saw them getting their trucks ready this morning. Eric isn't coming to help Evelyn. He's readying them to come get you back." Landon stares in my eyes for a second, his gaze intense. "Do you realize how much power Eric has? All he has to do is speak the words and the entire faction will be on the hunt for you. That's why Evelyn wanted you here. She doesn't care if he said yes or no. She knows that once he gets here, she just needs to dangle you in front of him before he gives in."

I bite my lip.

"You're the only weakness anyone has ever found in Eric." Landon quiets as someone walks by us, but they pay no attention to our table.

"So you're gonna help me until he gets here?" I ask him.

He nods, and for the first time in a long time, he looks like the Landon I left behind.

 

 

The trucks arrive as soon as the afternoon falls.

The air is still cold and crisp, and I walk along the edge of the factionless compound. I hadn't seen Evelyn all day, and it was nice in a way. Landon had made sure I was out of her sight, and it wasn't completely awful to have some alone time. He'd showed me how to sneak outside through a lesser known exit, and I was able to walk as close to the factionless guards as I dared.

I'd spent the last few hours walking between the buildings. Now, I make my way through the rough edges of the city. I have no idea where we are in relation to Dauntless, but there are large sky scraping buildings that seem to touch the clouds. They are rambling, broken windows and rotted floor and the factionless inhabit them like insects. They've gnawed out neat living spaces in these monstrosities.

Out of nowhere, I hear the trucks.

I startle at the noise.

The factionless guards and I turn our heads towards the sound of the diesel engines. I can see the trucks now approaching from a distance. They are large and grey, bearing the Dauntless logo and there are more of them than I can count. My heart tightens in my chest, now beating frantically, hopefully. Eric hasn't just come to bring me back to Dauntless, he's brought an entire army with him to make sure it happens.

But his arrival isn't unexpected by anyone.

The compound is lined with guards, heavily armed and waiting. They know he's said no, and there's only one reason he's here.

 

 

Evelyn shoves a dress at me.

"Change and then I'll take you to him." She snaps. I obediently get ready; I strip out of the warm leggings and jacket, and I slide the frilly dress over my head. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The dress is lacey and white, with tiny straps and a flowy skirt. It looks like something someone in Amity would have worn to get married in, except it's far softer. It's not terrible, but after months of living in the Dauntless uniforms, it feels odd. My legs feel naked as I follow after her to retrieve the pair of ballet flats she's got in her hand.

"Turn around." I feel her tug at my hair, twisting it up and around until she's braided it out of the way. She pries some of the strands apart, giving it a fairly undone look. I catch my image in the mirror and I cringe. I look a far cry from the Dauntless leader I was being groomed into. Something like lead settles into my stomach at the thought. I look like I'm back in Amity, ready to pick flowers until the sun sets.

When she's pleased with my appearance and she drags me out of the room, one arm firmly grasping my own. I want to break away from her, but I need to play her game. I walk quickly, my eyes searching the area for any sign of the Dauntless army. I don't see any, instead I simply see a few of the remaining factionless, busying themselves amongst the compound.

I don't panic until she pushes a door open and leads me outside.

The air is cold against my skin and Evelyn roughly on yanks my arm, harder than necessary as we make our way through the gunfire.

There is battle outside, and she's walking me right through the middle of it.

I try to duck as I hear shots fire past me. I can hear both sides yelling, their words muffled through a haze of explosions. I don't see Eric anywhere. I only see the factionless, firing tirelessly in the opposite direction. She keeps going until we make our way around one of the large buildings. Now that we are out of sight Evelyn relaxes the tiniest bit until we reach an opening. There is no one here except for an old work truck.

A large man appears next to Evelyn, his face pinched in displeasure.

"We won't be able to hold them off much longer." He hisses. She nods at him, her grip still tight on my skin. She shoves me towards a waiting truck, its engine somehow louder than anything out here. "Are you sending her back? He's just going to kill us all before the afternoons over."

Evelyn nods, her eyes dark. She motions for the driver, an older man who looks impatient. "Take her back. Don't stop until you're there. You can tell them Eric sent her, give them the papers if need be."

Confusions swirls through my mind. "Are you sending me back to Dauntless? Why can't you just take me to Eric?" I try to squirm away from her, but she shoves me back against the side of the truck. Before I can realize what she's doing, there's a needle in my neck, and I jerk away in a desperate attempt to stop her.

"No!" I yell, watching the syringe fall to the ground. It lands with a sick clash, shattering on impact. The pale liquid spills everywhere, and I can feel a few drops drip down my neck. "Ohhh, no. No you didn't!" I shriek. I can only pray she didn't inject me with the memory wiping serum. I wipe at my neck and when my fingers come away slightly bloody I can't help but shut my eyes. I can feel the slippery wetness of the shot, trickling down.

"Take her to Amity." Evelyn hisses.

It's the last thing I remember hearing.

 

 

When I open my eyes, the sun is brightly shinning and the sky is bright blue. I stretch lazily for a moment, the white sheets crisp and stiff beneath me. I push them back, and sit up.

Outside of my window Amity is waking up. I can see the grass in the fields swaying in the slight breeze, and the sun is rising, slowly and sleepily through the trees. I brush my hair out of my eyes. The air is quiet and still, the coldness slowly thawing out as the world awakens.

I rub at my eyes sleepily as I climb out of bed. I try to be as quiet as possible, for I don't want to wake up Landon.


	28. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday/Monday/Whateverday! The last chapter was the first one that featured absolutely no Eric. Well, he's back, and he's kind of cranky ;)

The screaming is ear piercing.

The shrieks come from the children, almost all running around the large empty dome. It seems to bounce off the walls, echoing endlessly. I watch them with little effort to attempt to control them; they range in age from three until around eight or nine. The older ones are gleefully blowing bubbles and the younger ones are running as fast as possible to pop them.

I press on my temples, trying hard to ward off the headache that is starting.

I've been able to remember Amity for a week now.

It's a weird thing, one day I had woken up beside Landon, and the sight of his face brought such a great annoyance to me that I slipped out of bed and tried hard to avoid him all morning. He had come after me, trying to pacify my great disdain for him, but it didn't work. I could remember very clearly, what seemed like forever ago, the moment in which I had decided that I no longer wanted to spend my life him. It was very vibrant in my mind, the way his face had darkened and he had nodded, almost as if he had known it was coming.

I couldn't remember why I had woken up beside him, or why some things seemed fuzzier than others. I felt as though half of my brain had fallen asleep, and it was reluctant to wake up. Despite the fact that some of my memories seemed blurred around the edges, I could still remember Amity. The general way the faction worked, the way that I was expected to spend my days with my fellow members, and the gentle way we existed.

I could even remember the first time I ever left Amity; happily skipping away to take my aptitude test, eagerly waiting to find out what faction I belonged in. But past that, I couldn't remember anything.

It was a weird feeling. Like someone had neatly taken out a section of my brain, and then fused it back together. There was a nagging sensation that I could feel that I was missing something, but I didn't know why.

The other crappy part of it all, was that no one seemed to notice but me. My mother had smiled happily when I slipped in through her door, having finally lost Landon a few houses back. My brothers and sisters gleefully yelped for me to play with them, to take them out to the groves to race through the orchards. And my neighbors, the same sweet and kind families I could blearily remember, they waved hello every morning as though life had not skipped a beat.

I was the only one that seemed to notice that things felt different.

 

 

Johanna had approached me on my third day of feeling off. I was sitting alongside my mother at one of the tables, eating salad. For some reason the food of Amity seemed almost insulting to me, and I ate more out of routine than anything else.

"Everly, would you like to resume your position with the children? Kelsey said she needs some help with the younger ones." Johanna's eyes were kind and soft, and for a moment I felt irritated. I couldn't remember ever working with the children. While I'd always found them enjoyable, I had never saw myself spending all of my time with them. The offer for the position seemed rather out of nowhere.

"I don't…I don't remember working with them before. But sure. I'd be happy to help." I told her, frowning.

Johanna's smile had faltered, the same way it did when she was approached with any sort of conflict. The woman did not handle these sort of encounters well, and I could tell my hesitation was bothersome to her.

"I'll let her know." She told me, almost bowing away as she stepped to the side. Her gentle and fluid motions suddenly irked me. Her whole being was too passive and too slow for me. I watched her walk away, towards a group of elders who were patiently serving the still long kitchen line.

It was how I wound up here, watching them play, my own self bordering on being as blissfully unaware as they were.

 

 

I grit my teeth.

Everyone in Amity moves at a snail's pace.

I'm trying to wrangle up fourteen children to wash their hands before dinner, and the rest of Amity seems to be toiling along, spaced out in the crisp dusk air. Their parents seem to take their sweet time coming to pick them up. I watch them lazily stroll along the path, their faces joyfully relaxed and their heads tilted in towards each other. Even the long days in the fields haven't worn down their spirits.

I help a small child with dark red hair scrub dirt off his hands. They've spent the day learning about gardening and farming, gearing them towards their future paths. Those that will stay will probably follow in their parent's steps. Many will work in the fields, and maybe one out of all of them will go on to choose a different life.

I frown, handing him a towel and helping dry his hands.

The jealousy of this young child's promising future is blood boiling.

 

 

It becomes apparent that I'm unhappy here, and there's little I can do to hide it.

Johanna approaches me a day later, her warm hand coming to cup my elbow as I trudge along the edges of the fields. I've brought the children out here under the guise of playing, but I really just want to be away from everyone.

"Everly, dear. I know something's bothering you. And I've been trying to give you the time and space to sort it out. But if you don't remember who we are in spirit, then we're going to have a problem. People are very worried about your attitude lately."

Her words are quiet and still, never more amity than in this moment.

I stare at her and swallow, knowing she's close to shoving some peace serum down my throat in the kindest way possible.

So I try to smile at her, and I nod. "I'm fine, but thank you."

 

 

Sofia and Courtney sit with me at dinner, and I unhappily eat the chicken that's been placed on my plate. The days are slowly trickling by, and I can't help but feel like a caged animal. It's as though I'll never feel normal again, and the feeling makes me ill. So many times I've felt like I'm on the verge of remembering something. Thoughts feel like they're about to burst in my brain, then they seem to fizzle out suddenly. The sensation is maddening.

"Everly." Courtney says, kicking me slightly beneath the table. "Are you alright? You look really miserable right now." She says the second part quietly, her head leaning in towards mine.

I shake my head. "Something's wrong and no one has noticed but me. It's like something is wrong with my brain, and I'm missing part of my memories."

I don't know why I'm even telling her. I can't help but think I sound slightly insane as I speak the words aloud. Sofia stares at me curiously, but doesn't say anything. For a moment I want to snap at her. I know what she's thinking. I should be grateful; thankful for this moment, thankful for the ground beneath my feet and thankful for the meal in front of me. But I can't help but feel antsy, almost itchy, at the idea that this is my forever.

Courtney grimaces and looks down at my mostly full plate. The dinner is fine, there's nothing outwardly wrong with it, but I have no appetite these days.

"Let's talk a walk after dinner." She says, glancing at Sofia. Sofia's eyes widen and she shakes her head.

"Courtney." She says, so softly that I almost don't hear the hesitant tone in her voice. "Are you sure that's a wise idea?"

Courtney nods. "I think we could all use some fresh air."

I don't point out that we're eating in an open air dome, because I feel like she knows something that I don't.

 

 

The woods are dark and quiet, and they surround the small area with a looming presence. This is amongst the quietest part of Amity. It is set behind the dome, and there are a few wooden benches built before the pathway to the woods, and Courtney leads us to them.

I sit down at the end of the bench, pulling my arms close to myself. The air seems colder here, and given my gloomy attitude, it feels appropriate.

"What do you want to talk about?" I ask them. I pull my feet up onto the bench, tucking them beneath myself. Sofia looks bothered, and it's a rare expression for her. She waits for Courtney to speak, her gaze firmly fixed on the ground.

"Are you really unhappy here?" Courtney asks. "You've looked so upset these past few days, and everyone is starting to get worried about you."

I sigh.

"I can't help but feel like something's wrong. I woke up the other day, and I can't remember things. I know I didn't choose this. I wouldn't chose this." I tell her. I'm slightly disheartened. Out of anyone in Amity, Courtney knows me too well to be wondering about my attitude.

"Why do you think you didn't choose Amity?" Sofia asks. She brushes her hair back behind her ears, and stares at me curiously. "You were happy here once." Her words are soft, and I bristle at them.

"You guys have been my best friends for years. Have I ever once said that I wanted to stay here?" I snap. I can feel myself growing hot, the irritated feeling crawling up my spine. "Something is wrong, and no one will tell me anything. I don't remember picking Amity, but I can't remember anything after taking my test."

The girls exchange a dark look, and Courtney sighs.

"You didn't choose Amity. You chose Dauntless." She says the words as her eyes flick around us, making sure there's no one listening.

Her words come as sort of a surprise, but a very hopeful surprise.

"Dauntless?" I ask. "What do you mean I chose Dauntless?" I sit up a little bit straighter. "Then why am I here?"

Courtney looks at me for a long moment.

"Well?" I prompt her. I'm dying here, waiting for her to continue. I knew it; I knew that there was something funny about the way I'd been feeling. That a large part of me thought I was not meant to live in this faction, and a larger part of me knew it.

"Landon brought you back a week ago. You were all spacey and weird, and he said that you'd failed in Dauntless, but they'd worked out a deal so you came back here." She pauses, her eyes on mine. "But I don't think you failed anything there. You were training to becoming a leader. We saw you a few times with Eric and you never once seemed like you weren't doing well."

"Eric." I repeat, having no clue why the name doesn't sound familiar. It does cause a blistering ache to work its way through my chest. I clench my fists and try to ignore the sharp feeling. "Who's Eric?"

Courtney's eyes widen.

"You really don't remember, do you?" Sofia finally asks, her voice small. "I thought maybe you did and you were just, I don't know, playing some sort of joke on us."

"He's one of the leaders of Dauntless. He was training you. He was…" Courtney doesn't finish her sentence. My mother appears, Landon hot on her heels, followed by an army of wiggling children. She's smiling happily at me, her face soft in the twilight.

"Everly, dear could you help me for a few moments. Landon is going to help move our kitchen table and I thought maybe you could keep the kids out of the way for a bit."

Every fiber of my being wants to tell her no. Courtney was on the verge of spilling something, something that seemed of the utmost importance, but now her mouth is clamped shut, and her face looks guilty. I stare at my mother for a moment, trying to force my face into a smile. I want to politely ask her for a few more minutes with my friends, or why doesn't she make my strangely absent father to help her, but the look on her face tells me this isn't a request. Landon looks almost guilty, but he stays quiet.

"Sure." I untuck my legs from beneath me, throwing one final look at my friends. "We'll finish talking tomorrow." I fix my eyes on Courtney, watching as she nods ever so slightly.

They both wave goodbye, watching as I sulkily walk after my mother. Her timing is rotten, but it doesn't matter. Courtney has told me what I've assumed all along. That there's a whole part of my life that I can't remember. But I will.

 

 

I corner Landon first thing in the morning.

He's brushing the white horse's mane, and he stops when he sees me.

"Morning." He greets me without really looking up, and it's not until I shove him forward does he look at me.

"Everly! What has gotten into you today?" He hisses. I glare at him, putting my hands on my hips.

"Are you planning on telling me why I'm here?" I ask him. My words come out harsher than I would ever speak to him, but my frustration is at an all-time high. "And why I'm not in Dauntless?"

Landon stares at me, and his whole face seems to darken. "I don't have a good answer for that."

"Bullshit." I snap at him. "I think you do. There's a reason why I can't remember choosing Dauntless and I think you know why."

Landon finally sets the brush down and turns to look at me. "Look, I said I'll keep you alive until you can get back to Eric. That means you need to keep your mouth shut. You need to stay here and keep quiet. Let them think the serum worked. Pretend you don't remember anything."

"Why Eric? And what serum? What didn't work? " I pressed. I ignore the way my chest seems to hurt when he mentions the word Eric. The name still means almost nothing, other than evoking the same subconscious response as when Courtney said it.

Landon shook his head, exasperation creeping into his features. "Fine. You chose Dauntless, got yourself involved with their leader, and somehow wound up in the middle of a war that you didn't need to be fighting. The Factionless decided to use you against the Dauntless faction, and you were injected by the Factionless leader."

"Injected with what?" I can feel my hands balling into fists.

"A serum to erase your memory. Evelyn wanted the protection of Dauntless and when Eric refused, she tried to wipe your memory. She let Eric think she'd killed you, and she hid you here."

I stare at him, my mind reeling with horror. "But I can remember some stuff. My memory just stops after I took the test."

Landon shrugs. "You must be Divergent. The serums don't work properly on anyone who's divergent." He narrows his eyes. "Didn't Eric ever tell you that? He did help create them."

"I can't even remember if I'm divergent." I scowl at him. "I mean, it wiped out some of my memory. Will the rest come back? And I don't remember anything from Dauntless."

He rolls his eyes. "I don't know what else to tell you. That's the best reason I've got. I'm not a scientist, I just know what I learned when I was there."

"You were at Dauntless?" I ask him.

Landon looks mildly sheepish. "No, I was with the Factionless. I liked some of their ideals and I got a little caught up in it. It worked out for you, though. I helped you get out of there, and like I told you, I've kept you safe. You just need to stay here until you can remember everything."

"So why didn't it erase my whole memory?" I press further, wondering if he's telling me the entire truth.

"They must have been working on it. Maybe they gave you a new version. It means they're getting closer to a batch that does work on everyone." He stares at the floor. "They're both monsters." He mutters. "Jeanine and Evelyn."

The names don't mean a lot to me, but I know they will. I try to commit them to memory the best I can.

"I need to get back to Dauntless." I tell him.

Landon doesn't say anything; he just sighs and averts his stare back to the horse. "I know."

 

 

I make the decision to leave Amity at the next chance I get. There's no point in me staying here. Eventually Johanna will get fed up enough and she'll give me an option. Either start downing the peace serum until my thoughts are mellow and happy, or leave. Seeing as how I had gotten myself in the middle of this Factionless war, there's really only one option left.

I'll leave on my own. I'll make my way back to Dauntless, and I'll wait it out until my memory comes back. I'll find this Eric and make him help me. They can't possibly turn away one of their own members.

I try to imagine staying in Amity, attempting to fit in here, and I can't. I can only pray that Landon is right. That pretty soon the last year of my life will reappear and everything will go back to normal. Amity feels suffocating, and I can't help by think I might regain the rest of my memory faster if I wasn't here.

My mind is made up.

I'll leave within the next few days.

 

 

I can't sleep. My mind keeps drifting off into some sort of twilight slumber, restless as ever. I find myself dreaming of a dark cavernous place, the voice of a faceless man, and my name, whispered over and over. I jerk awake, my heart beating far too fast, and I push the covers back. I give up on all thoughts of sleep, and I slip downstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible so I don't wake up my mother.

She's fast asleep in the living room, her hand stilled on whatever dress was mending. I try to walk silently, making sure the stairs don't creak.

The sky is dark with only a few stars in its black sky, and I walk out onto the patio of my mother's house.

I make it to the far edge of the patio when I hear some strange booming noise, and I stop, tilting my head towards the sound. It's coming from far away, very far away, and I can very faintly make out something in the sky. At first I think it's just a star, maybe one that's fallen away into the night. But when I squint my eyes, I can sort of see that it's not.

Its tiny bursts of light, just past what must be the furthest point of Amity. They burst over the tops of the trees, the color flashing prettily for a few moments.

I stare at the bursts of pink, waiting for them to change.

But they don't. They continue to burst in rapid succession, pinks blending into darker pinks until they finally stop just as suddenly as they started, and the night is once again silent.

 

 

"They'll be looking for you. If you leave and get caught by the Factionless, you're screwed. They'll use you to test their serums on. It's not safe for you to go alone." Landon is half whispering to me, and I resist the urge to push him away. He's all too close to me, the scent of the fields on his skin.

We make our way towards the Dome.

A half hour past lunch time, there was a loud chime and it meant we were all summoned for a meeting. It wasn't unusual here. Amity made most if it's decisions as a community. Johanna usually read whatever was on our agenda, and every one quietly meditated on what was the most peaceful answer they could think of.

Today everyone is slightly chatty, happy words flitting through the room as I sit down beside Courtney. Sofia is a few people away, her eyes fixed straight ahead as Landon sits next to me.

"They'll kill you if they find you." He informs me, trying to keep his voice low. He nudges me and I try hard not to swat him away.

"I don't care." I keep my stare on Johanna, watching her warmly greet everyone filing in. We wait as the elder members are helped to their seats. They aren't required to sit on the floor, and it seems to take years for them to all be seated. "I need to go home."

Landon frowns, but he doesn't answer me. Johanna raises her hands in greeting, and she motions to the large blank wall behind her.

"Today we are gathered to listen to a message that has come from the leader of Dauntless and Erudite. Please remember to listen before we speak, and be mindful with your reactions." She clasps her hands in front of her, and steps to the side. A few moments later there is a whirl of small lights, the projector starts up.

The wall is lit up with an image of a group of men and women. The ones from Erudite stand stiffly, their faces neutral. The ones from Dauntless stand tall and still, and their expressions are slightly more drawn. They motion silently, and a man steps towards the middle.

His hair is sharply perfect, cut short on the sides and combed back on top. The dark fabric of his jacket matches the dark tattoo on his neck, and he doesn't smile. He has a rather unfriendly stare, and his grey eyes seem to pierce through the projection.

"Today we would like to announce that Jeanine Mathew has been executed due to her crimes against the factions. It was with deep regret that we mourn the loss of a brilliant mind, but we are a city that strives for peace, and Jeanine had chosen to search for peace of different definition. We ask for your utmost respect on this matter."

He pauses, his face cold. "Her replacement will be announced in the next few days. A list of complete offense will be available for any of the concerned factions who deem it necessary. Any further questions may be asked to your Faction leaders." With that he nods, and takes a step back, his hands clasped behind his back.

There is a low murmur amongst the Amity, but I don't take my eyes off the screen.

The man who gave the speech seems rather despondent, and his grey eyes finally blink tiredly as he takes his place beside the rest of the Dauntless. Another man steps forward, his blue jacket looking almost flimsy against the structured jacket of the Dauntless members.

"Let this be a reminder that peace is not only an obligation amongst our city, but an honor. Good afternoon."

The projector turns off the room becomes silent.

I elbow Courtney and she turns to me, her eyes wide.

"I can't believe that. I wonder what she was doing." She whisper and I shake my head.

I think little of Jeanine. I know who she is, and I know that she was obsessed with keeping the factions peaceful. She had always seemed very calculated, and it's little surprise to me that she would have been up to something behind the scenes.

All I can think of is the man the short hair. For some reason I want to know why he looks the way he does. I have the urge to touch his hair, and if I try hard enough, I can almost feel the soft strands beneath my fingers.

"The guy that gave the speech, was he the leader of Dauntless? Was that Eric?" I ask her. I try to keep my voice down and the girl in front of me gives me a hasty look. I'm supposed to be taking this information in, internalizing my thoughts on it.

Courtney nods and pretends to smooth out her dress in front of her. She leans in until her head is by mine. "He is. He's been here a few times."

I can't shake the feeling that I know him, more than know him. I stare at the blank wall, wishing his face would come back on the screen. It doesn't, and the room stays very quiet until Johanna walks back to the front. Her eyes fall on me, and she doesn't move her stare until a few people stand up, and begin to ask her questions she can't answer.

 

 

Amity is torn.

Half of the community has expressed their displeasure at Jeanine's execution. The mere word sends a shudder through some members. To them, her execution is an act of violence that all too permanent and utterly vicious. The other half are more accepting. A threat to our city is a threat to Amity, but of course they would never wish any harm on a single citizen.

None of Amity loudly voice their concern. Instead they whisper it amongst themselves, their voices trickling in and out as they debate what she could have done. Jeanine was well known, but not particularly well liked. Her visits to Amity were rare, and she always walked through with an air of complete and utter repulsion.

I walk along the same path that she once did, her dark black heels darkened with dirt after mere minutes of walking. The children are following after me, a few pulling on my arms until I suggest they play hide and seek. The game will buy me some time, until I can figure out how to get out here.

I'm more determined than ever.

I think about Eric again, wishing they would replay the message just so I could see him.

I'm lost in my own thoughts as I walk along. I can try to sneak out at night. It might be the best time not to be noticed. My departure shouldn't really matter. I haven't been one of Amity's more popular members lately, and I'm sure no one would blink twice if they saw me wander off. I contemplate on whether or not I should leave tonight. The city might be busied with the loss of one of its leaders, and it could be the perfect time. The distraction could be just the cover I need.

It's not until I reach the edge of the path do I realize I can only count nine of the ten children that have been walking along with me.

"Holden went that way!" One of the little girls tattles, her voice high. She's maybe six, and her favorite activity seems to be telling on her brother. "I saw him go in there." She points at Johanna's office, the large wood building not far from us.

"Thank you." I tell her, and I eye the building.

I sigh, making my way towards it.

Johanna's office hasn't been my favorite place since I woke up here. I've almost managed to avoid being alone with her all together. It would be far too easy for her to try to strike up a conversation before she would lightly suggest ways to help me adapt. The last thing I want is to spend my days in any more of a haze.

I make my way up the stairs, listening for the sound of Holden. He's not more than four, and he's rather adventurous. This isn't the first time he's wandered off, so I'm not surprised that's headed away from the group.

It doesn't take long before I reach the top of the stairs, and I groan when I see Johann's office. Judging by the mess that's strewn around everywhere, it's obvious he's been here. Her desk is littered with papers and books, and the large computer screen has been shoved to the side.

"Holden!" I yell out, trying to search for him. I make my way past the bookshelves, and it's not until I reach the windows do I hear his giggle.

"Don't you dare move." I threaten quietly as I make my way back towards the desk. He pops up with a loud squeal of joy, and I watch as his little hands begin to furiously mess with everything on her desk even further. Most of the papers fly off the desk, and a few of the plants on Johanna's desk smash into the floor.

"Holden!" I say his name scoldingly, moving faster to stop him. He's got the keyboard in his hands, and he's happily banging away at it. "Stop!"

I reach him none too soon. I scoop up the papers off the floor, and I try to salvage the poor plants that have fallen over. I pat them as I set them down, mumbling an apology to the plants before I realize they won't respond. I let out a huge sigh. I really need to get out of here.

"No more Holden. We need to get back to your sister." I tell him. I move to set the papers back on her desk, but I freeze when I hear the voice coming from the desk, its voice snapping with impatience.

"Do you need something Johanna?" The words are icy in nature, and I jerk my head towards the computer screen. I reach for it, my fingers turning the screen around until it's back in place.

The image on the screen stares back at me. The man from the projection is seated at a desk, staring at the screen with utter loathing. He seems even harsher now, his features steeled into place. "I don't have time for this." I hear him snarl. It's not until I step completely in front of the monitor to stare at him does his expression change.

His eyes widen, and he raises his eyebrow until the piercing above it disappears.

"Everly." He says my name, suddenly rising up from the desk.

For a moment I am frozen in place, unable to move. I stare at him, my lips parting to ask him one of the million questions in my mind, but I can't. He opens his mouth, but all he says is my name again.

"Everly." He says it forcefully, almost desperately.

Holden chooses that moment to shove past me. He presses the button on the side, turning the computer off.

 

 

I can barely eat dinner.

I sit beside Courtney and my knee keeps bouncing.

"What is wrong with you?" She asks, staring at me for the millionth time. I bite at my lip, unsure if I should tell her. While I didn't do anything wrong, I can't help but feel like I could be in trouble for being in Johanna's office. I want to badly ask her about Eric, but Landon flops down into the seat beside her and shoves his hair out of his eyes.

"You guys hear about Gemma? I think we're gonna have foals pretty soon."

He couldn't have worse timing, and I couldn't care less about baby horses, so I keep quiet for the rest of dinner.

 

 

It's dark when my youngest brother wakes me up by shoving his hands into my hair and yanking as hard as possible.

"Trucks are here." He tells me, his little voice right in front of my face. I open one eye at him, trying to shove him off me.

"Let go of me Zander." I groan. He sulks, his whole face pouting as he pulls on my hair, only harder than before.

"Take Zander to trucks."

I sigh, trying to sit up. I have zero desire to see any trucks. Before I took my aptitude test, Zander had developed an unhealthy fascination with the work trucks. He'd plead and cry and scream until someone took him to see them. It was cute to watch him examine them as if he knew what he was looking at, but not cute at ten o'clock at night.

"It's too late." I tell him. I push my hair off my face and sigh when Zander refuses to move. I get the feeling he won't leave until I take him to see the work trucks. "Fine." I tell him, giving in. "But only for a few minutes."

He bounces off my bed with joy, and I sleepily follow after him. We leave the house quietly, trying not to disturb anyone who's managed to stay blissfully asleep. I hold his small hand as we walk down through the grass, trying to pretend I'm not freezing in the cold air.

"We should have brought jackets." I tell him, but he's not listening. He tugs on my hand and points towards past the Dome. "Yes, we're going that way."

My words die in my throat when I see the trucks he's pointing at. They aren't he typical Amity work trucks. These trucks are large and grey, and they have dark numbers on the side. I can tell instantly that they are from Dauntless, and my stomach drops as though I've jumped out of a tree.

He's here.

I know it.

I glance around the compound, scanning the area for any sign of anything about the ordinary. My heart sinks when I see none. The night is dark and quiet, and Zander yanks harder as we near the trucks.

"Wow." He announces, his eyes widening in awe at the sight before him. I stare at the large grey vehicle, wondering if I've ridden in it before. Zander and I make our way around the trucks, and he enthusiastically checks out the wheels. I wrap my arms around myself and take a step back, hoping he's almost done.

"You're actively participating in a kidnapping if you aren't willing to hand her over."

The words break through the quiet night, and I freeze in place. The voice is low and angry, the same one that gave the speech about Jeanine.

"You're exceeding your jurisdiction." I hear Johann's passive words, but her tone holds the slightest bit of indignation in it.

I spy them out of the corner of my eye. They are walking this way; Johanna is in the middle, and to the side of her is a man I don't know. He's tall and dark, and his expression tells me Amity is the last place that he'd rather be

To the left of her is Eric.

I hold my breath for a moment, and I stare at him as though this is the first time I have ever seen him. In person he is tall and impressively fit. His uniform jacket is unbuttoned, and he walks heavily, as though he'd like to stomp everything around him into the ground. There is an arrogance to him, a slight smugness despite the tiredness that's apparent on his face. I watch him stare at Johanna with the utmost of disgust, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Where is she?" He asks. He's raised his eyebrow as though he's utterly exasperated with this conversation.

"Eric." Johanna stops suddenly, her whole body visibly tensing, and I can tell she's spotted me. Eric's gaze follows hers, and his eyes seem to narrow when they land on me.

"Everly."

He says my name sharply. His lips part for a second, and before I can blink, he's striding over to me.

"What are you doing here?" He comes to a half in front of me, and up close he is much larger than I'd imagined. He towers over me, staring down at me with dark grey eyes. But he doesn't wait for me to answer him. He reaches for me, one large warm hand reaching around my waist, his fingers curling into the thin fabric of my nightgown. He pulls me until I'm flush against his chest, the hard planes of him warm through his dark shirt.

"I thought Evelyn killed you." He murmurs, and he holds me impossible close to him. I reach my hands up until one rests on his chest, the frantic beat of his heart pulsing beneath my fingers. The other finds the back of his hair, the short sides softer than anything I've felt before. "We celebrated your death yesterday."

His words wash over me, and I curl my fingers into the stiff fabric of his jacket.

I feel brave, dizzyingly brave.

He bends forward and his nose brushes against mine, much more softly than I could imagine coming from him. I feel his lips press against mine, cold and rough and he presses harder as my nails dig into his scalp. I can feel my feet lift off the grass as he pulls me up towards him, but he breaks apart after a moment of hesitation.

"What's wrong?" He's staring at me intently, his eyes worried. "Everly, what's wrong?"

I can't answer him.

He sets me down in front of him, still keeping me close against him, and he swallows thickly. "Say something."

"I…" I stare up at him, wanting him to tell me who he is, and why it feels gut wrenchingly awful that I can't remember him. "I don't remember you."

Eric stares at me and his whole face drops.


	29. Home or Somethin Like It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates today! And if you don't, happy Thursday!
> 
> Here's something to sneak off and read when you get sick of your Grandma/Aunt/Mother asking you about your life choices and just when will you get a job/get married/ have kids/ stop drinking so much soda, etc etc.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy :)

Eric's face slips into something that resembles what I imagine to be mild rage for him.

His eyes darken, the grey steeling impossibly further, and his lips turn into a scowl.

"What did they do to you?" His words are a hiss; and his fingers tighten into my skin, the feeling verging on painful. He swallows thickly, his grip never lessening. "Did they inject you with something? Something to make you forget who you are?" He keeps me close to him, the space between us nonexistent.

I bite at my lip. "I don't really remember what happened. I can remember everything up until I went to take my aptitude test, but after that it's just kind of blurry."

Eric doesn't blink.

"My friends…my friends told me I was training with you...in Dauntless." I tell him. His hands are still on me, large and warm and I can faintly hear Johanna and the other man talking somewhere behind us. "They said that I passed the initiation…" I trail off and his eyes never leave mine.

"You did." He tells me, his words short and sharp. "You were training to become a leader in Dauntless."

"Oh." I take in his words, trying to process them. He and I are obviously close, closer than just two people who had trained together. I can't help the pull I feel towards him, this deep draw that bubbles up despite my lack of recognition of him.

"Did your friends tell you anything else?" His tone has changed, and his words sound dangerous and slick. He's staring at me intensely, less angry now, but as though he could possibly devour me, and he finds the idea delightful.

I shake my head. "No."

He smirks. His lips curl up in amusement, as if my answer is highly entertaining given the situation.

One of Eric's hands finally lets go of my waist, and he moves it to touch my cheek. His thumb brushes over my cheek bones, his fingers trailing over my skin.

"It shouldn't have affected you. The serums don't work on anyone who's divergent." He tells me. He stares, and I can see his mind working quickly.

"How do you know that I'm Divergent?" I ask him. I pull harder on his jacket, and I watch his eyes flick over me, the color much lighter now.

"Because you're my wife."

He says the words very firmly, and there is a note of finality to them.

 

 

Johanna is reluctant to let me leave, but it's clear that the decision isn't really hers. In this moment, it isn't even mine anymore, because Eric announces almost gleefully that he's taking me back to Dauntless.

"You aren't worried that she won't remember?" The man's name is Max, and he's staring at me with a sort of an unsteady smile. Like he's worried, but he can't show it too much.

Eric shakes his head. His hands are still on me, one holding tight onto my waist. We've moved inside of the stables, and the air is warmer in here. Or maybe I just feel warm because of him. He hasn't stopped touching me since he kissed me.

"I'll have Arlene run a full panel of blood work to see if there's anything left in her system. I'm assuming Evelyn gave her a newer version of the serum."

Max snorts. "Evelyn knows enough to create her own version?"

Johanna looks at Eric, her face curious as he answers. "I doubt she did it. There are Erudites who have left and joined the Factionless. Not everyone agreed with the system." Eric shrugs, and he appears to be indifferent towards the idea. "There's enough knowledge between them to attempt another version."

"And you are really aren't worried that the effects aren't permanent?" Max stares at me for moment, and his gaze falls to Eric's grip on my waist. "What will you do if she doesn't ever remember anything else?"

Eric turns his gaze to me. "Can you remember what happened a few days ago?"

I look up at him and nod. "Yeah. I can remember new things, it's just like I'm missing time."

My words validate whatever theory Eric has, and he nods. "She'll be fine. As a precaution I had her vaccinated her against the earlier strains, so whatever they gave her won't last long."

I stare up at him, watching the way he seems to have thought of everything. I wonder if I knew I was being vaccinated.

He pulls me closer to him, and he looks back towards Johanna. "We'll be leaving tonight."

Johanna stares at us and she sort of sighs. "I don't really feel comfortable sending her back to Dauntless when she doesn't remember choosing it."

Eric and I both stiffen at her words. I can feel him tense up, the muscles in his arms tightening as though he'd be willing to settle this disagreement any way necessary. Johanna takes note of the sudden change in his posture and she holds her palms up at him.

"If Everly wants to go with you, then I certainly won't stop either of you."

"You won't stop me anyway because she's my wife, and there's no way I'm leaving her behind." Eric's words are a dark snarl. He points at Johanna threateningly. "You try and stop me, and I'll make sure you're prosecuted for aiding and abetting in a kidnapping."

"The note came from you. It said that she was to stay here because she wouldn't remember anything…" Johanna trails off, her words soft. She frowns suddenly, as though she's just realized something. "You never wrote any note, did you?" Her words are quiet, dismayed.

"No. I certainly never wrote you any note asking you to keep my wife here." Eric snaps.

"I'm sorry." Johanna looks at Max, as though maybe he could save her or at the very least come to her defense. But he simply shrugs, and I get the feeling anyone who dares to try and go up against Eric never wins.

"We'll be in touch." Eric announces, then he turns to me and smiles something smug and warm, and my stomach twists pleasantly when I realize I am finally leaving.

 

 

Dauntless is quiet and dark, and we walk in through a large entry way that appears to be mostly for deliveries. Eric marches us through the winding hallways, and I try to take it all in. The ceilings are both high and low in some spots, some areas are cavern like, and some of the walls seem to glisten with a shimmery marble texture.

It's beautiful in a way that Amity wasn't.

There was a sense of danger in the air; it seemed to be everywhere in this place, sharp corners and high walkways, slick surfaces that reflected everything. There something dazzling about the way it all came together.

I'm probably gaping the same way any new initiate would have, but it stops the minute Eric drags me into the clinic. There is a sense of unfamiliar dread that washes through me and I can't quite figure out why. The clinic is busy even at this late hour but Eric doesn't bother with the receptionist. He walks us right past her yelping voice.

"Hey! Do you have an appointment?"

He ignores her, and we walk until he reaches a room that says Administration. He yanks the door open and steps inside.

"Arlene, I need your help." He announces, and I stop beside him, staring at the lady with grey hair. Her eyes widen at the sight of me, and she tilts her head to the side. She then narrows her eyes as she looks at Eric.

"What the hell, Eric?" She snaps. She stands up from the desk, shoving a mountain of paperwork away and she makes her way towards me. "I thought you said she was…"

"I was wrong." He barks.

"Everly, I didn't think we'd ever see you again." She stops when she's in front of me and she glances over the top of her glasses. "And to think this one here came in here whining that his wife had been taken from him. Thank heavens your back. We all know there's no one else in Dauntless worthy of furthering the Coulter blood line."

Eric rolls his eyes and I tug on his hand. "Wait, do we have kids?" Arlene's words have left me wondering. The thought of being married to Eric made my head spin, but having children with Eric is daunting. Or maybe it's the idea of the act to produce these children. I bite my lip, wondering just how long I've been married to him.

Arlene looks confused and her eyes flash to Eric. "Oh crap. Those shit heads injected her, didn't they?"

He nods. "Evelyn did. They had her taken back to Amity with a note saying she was to stay hidden there. I can only assume they thought her memory wouldn't come back at all. She can remember everything up until a point."

Arlene looks at me curiously. "Are you able to hold onto new memories?"

I nod at her. "I can remember waking up in Amity, and everything up until now. But nothing in between."

She exhales in exasperation. "Those morons. Always thinking that they can just create whatever they want to mess with the mind." She shakes her head. "We'll start your bloodwork and I'll have Milo do a quick scan. My guess is she'll be fine. You did request that she was given the vaccination for this sort of thing."

"How can you vaccinate against a serum?" I ask her. I'm still holding onto Eric's hand, his fingers warm against mine.

"The serums work like a strand of a viurs. It gets into the blood stream, attaches itself, and begins making changes. Because Eric asked that you be given the shot, it's making the serum malfunction. That's why you can still process new memories." She pauses, her eyes finding mine. "Their serum wasn't strong enough against everything you've had. Had they been able to come up with something to really erased your memory, you wouldn't be able to retain any new information. Your short term memory would be affected as well."

She places her hands on her hips and smiles at Eric. "For once your control freak nature has worked in Everly's favor."

Eric merely huffs in response.

 

 

After what feels like hours later, Arlene is wiping my arm off, and she's set aside several vials of blood to be sent for testing.

"We'll have these back in a few hours. Then we'll know a little more, but my guess is you'll be fine within a few weeks." She jots down something on the paper on the tray and reaches for a packet of bandages.

"So I'll remember everything?" I ask her. She places a band aid on my arm and she nods.

"Everything. It'll be a little frustrating for a moment, but you'll get through it. Both of you." She glances towards the door. We can both hear Eric snapping at someone who has made the mistake of asking him where the restroom is. "You'll need to be patient with him." She says, her voice very quiet.

I look at her curiously. "With Eric?"

"You've always been very patient with him. Ever since the first day I met you. But you'll need to be extra patient these next few days. He's spent the past few weeks thinking his wife had been murdered, and he's going to want you to be the exact same Everly that was taken from him, right this second. He doesn't have a high tolerance for this sort of thing."

She looks up to meet my curious stare. "He cares for you very much. He may not be able express just how much, but just know that's it beyond what anyone would ever expect Eric to feel."

I nod at her. She finished up quickly, and she pats my shoulder before she tells me I'm free to go. I thank her as she walks away, and Eric returns through the door, his mouth pressed into a fine line.

 

 

Arlene was right.

The frustration coming from Eric is palpable.

I'm seated on the edge of his bed, freshly showered and dressed in what must be my own nightgown, and Eric is staring at me as he undresses.

He yanks his shirt off over his head, the dark fabric tossed aside and he reaches for his belt. I try not to stare at him, but it's hard. Not only is his presence imposing, he's nice to look at. I try to keep my cheeks from darkening as I stare at the definition in his chest.

I can't help but feel like I've been here before.

Not just in this bedroom, but sitting here, wanting to be close to Eric.

It's a sucky feeling, one that's all encompassing. I know him. I can almost feel the memory of him trying very hard to break through. I'm not afraid of him, in fact quite the opposite. I'd much prefer to lunge for him, to wrap myself around him and kiss him until I can't see straight. To be the one to help undo his belt and even though the thought makes me shiver, to pull him on top of me, into his dark sheets and forget that I've very unfairly been forced to forget him.

I shift slightly and he's watching me, his fingers undoing the button on his pants.

"Do you want to sleep in here tonight?" His words are tight and careful. I hadn't given it much thought really. "This is where you normally sleep." He announces. I glance back at his bed as though there's proof that I've slept here. The bed is neatly made, the dark comforter tucked beneath the array of pillows.

Eric's room doesn't particularly look like there's anyone that stays here besides him. The colors are all dark, and his bedding is even darker. The only signs that I lived here are the ballets flats and converse strewn in front of his dresser, and the dresses hanging up besides his jackets. There were a few things on his dresser that could have been mine. A hairbrush, a bottle of pink nail polish, and several lacey nightgowns.

I look back at him and his face is patient, except for the tensing of his jaw.

I wanted to tell him that I shared his same frustration. Did he know how miserable I'd felt waking up beside Landon, knowing full well that Amity was nothing I'd ever wanted or would ever choose. The desperation that had washed over me every time I heard his name, unable to know why I felt that way.

"I can sleep in here."

The thought of sleeping next to him is thrilling.

He smirks, stepping out of his dark pants and he makes his way towards me.

 

 

I wake up at some point during the night, overly warm.

I've curled myself into him, his large form half beneath mine. I've pressed myself up closely against his hot skin, and one of his heavy arms is around my waist. The feeling of him, like this, is burningly familiar. I listen to him breathing deeply, easily asleep now that I'm in his bed.

I put my head back down onto his chest and he stirs the tiniest bit before drifting off again.

I'm home now, even if I can't completely remember it.

 

 

My patience for myself grows thin after the second day.

While it was easy for me to blend into Amity, trying to make my way around Dauntless as though nothing is wrong is an almost impossible task. I don't quite remember where everything is, and their hallways seem endless. My key card has been rudely deactivated, but it doesn't matter. Short of knowing the number to Eric's apartment, I can't remember anywhere else.

Eric wastes little time in helping me adapt back to lift in Dauntless. I shower in his bathroom, washing my hair with shampoo that smells like something I would like, and I dress in a dark sundress. He frowns when I make my way out into the living room, his eyes falling to my bare legs.

"It's cold out." He informs me, as though I've lost the ability to recognize weather.

"Are we going outside?" I ask him, and I swear he glares at me.

"No. You are never going outside again." He huffs. "Now go put on a sweater."

 

 

I'm reintroduced to Dauntless rather swiftly.

Each of our stops is brisk, more businesslike than anything. Eric points out the places he thinks I will need to know in the next few weeks. Infirmary, the mess hall, a few stores that sell clothes that all look much more structured than the flimsy Amity dresses, and his office.

"Is there more?" I ask him, trailing beside him. He has a much longer stride than I do, and I have to walk quickly to keep up with him.

Eric nods, his jaw set in a hard line. "There's a lot more. This will do for now. If there's anywhere else you need to go, I'll take you."

He looks at me as he walks, his brow bone suddenly more pronounced. "Do you have any questions?" He sounds the tiniest bit uncertain. I doubt he ever planned on having to show his wife around Dauntless as though she'd never been here before.

I shake my head at him, and I unconsciously step closer, my fingers brushing against his. He tenses up for a fraction of a second before he forces himself to relax.

We make our way down the long hallway, headed back towards the apartment, and every so often, Eric's fingers graze mine.

 

 

He spends most of the day with his eyes on me.

Eric never looks way, not even when I catch his stare. He sometimes looks like he's formulating some sort of plan, and other times he just looks pissed off.

Once he sort of smiles, his lips turning up the tiniest bit, and his eyes softening.

I want to wrap my arms around him, to bury my face in his neck and tell him it's alright. I don't know quite how he'd react. I don't really know what to expect from him, but I don't think he'd push me away.

But I don't. I mostly try to stay close to him, close enough that my I'm sort of touching him, and he seems happier that way.

 

 

"How did no one notice I was being kidnapped?" I ask Eric over coffee and dessert. There's a large piece of chocolate cake in front of me, and even more on the table. Eric had set it down after dinner, and he'd cut us both rather large slices.

He frowns at me from across the table. He'd filled me in on some of what happened. That no one in the control room was really paying attention the moment Colton had come after me, and that he'd carried me out over his shoulder, making it hard for anyone to get a clear shot at him.

He told me that Karl was on patrol at the time, and he'd been devastated that he wasn't able to stop Colton. In fact, his orders to cease fire might have been what spurred Colton on.

"Why would he tell them not to fire?" I take a bite of cake, half distracted by never having eaten anything more delicious in my life.

"Your friend panicked. He didn't want them to shoot you on accident. He didn't quite remember the level of skill that our patrol guard have." Eric looks annoyed. "He sent out whatever men he had available, but he was too distraught to do anything more. By the time anyone realized what was going on, Colton was long gone." His eyes fall to the table. "I didn't find out until I was out my meeting with Max that you'd been taken."

I take another bite of my cake, and I can't help but note the way he looks somewhat defeated, and the look doesn't suit him at all. I can only imagine his response to finding out that information.

"Was Karl sorry?" I ask him. I don't remember Karl, but Eric's words lead me to think we were friends. "Did he try to help you…"

"I didn't need his help." Eric snaps, his eyes jerking back towards mine. "I knew where Colton was taking you, and I knew Evelyn wouldn't outright hurt you. She'd want you alive until she was done with whatever she was planning."

I nod at him.

"I also knew you wouldn't be affected by the serum. At least not entirely." He eyes me carefully. "I'm sorry about your head." He mutters.

I shrug. "My head?"

"Colton bashed it into the wall in the hallway. Arlene said everything checked out alright. I can only imagine that Evelyn gave you something to help with the pain. Hopefully." He informs me.

I shake my head. "It feels fine. And I don't remember anyway." I tell him, my words wistful. It's not that I particularly want to remember this trauma, but I want to remember something, anything, from the past few months.

Eric steels himself, and he suddenly pushes his cake away from him. "We'll talk about this later."

He leaves me alone at the table, his posture tense as he storms away.

 

 

I eat breakfast with two girls that are my friends, and both of them look terribly terribly guilty.

"We should have come after you." Christina tells me. If this were Amity, she'd be whispering her words quietly. In Dauntless, Christina nearly yells the words so I can hear her over the roar of the mess hall. Her dark hair is perfectly bobbed, and I like how shiny it is. "We didn't really think you were gone for good. I don't even think Eric really did." She frowns, and takes a bite of her pancakes. "He was really a dick when you were gone." She tells me after swallowing. "Like, a huge dick."

"Christina." Tris frowns at her, setting down her glass of orange juice. "He was told his wife had been murdered. You can't exactly expect him to be skipping down the hallways."

She looks at me, and her eyes fall downwards. "I'm really sorry Everly. I should have come after you. Four and I got into a screaming match about it, and Jeremy and I couldn't agree on it either."

"Who's Four?" I ask her. I'm eating toast and drinking coffee and I feel slightly more normal now. Eric had left me with the girls, eyeing them threateningly, and told us he'd be back in an hour. He'd stalked off with little explanation, but no one seemed to bat an eye at his behavior.

"He's one of the trainers here. You were helping him with a class. He's also Tris' ex-boyfriend." Christina stares at me. "You really don't remember, do you?"

It's a question that I feel like I've been asked a million times. Arlene had asked me several times while stabbing my veins with a needle, Eric had asked repeatedly during our ride back to Dauntless, and even Max had tried to work it in while we walked through Amity.

I shake my head. "I don't."

"But you remember Eric?" Tris' words are soft, and even though I don't really remember her enough to know her, I can tell there is nothing but genuine concern in them.

"Kind of." I shrug. It's easier to leave it at that. Tris nods and frowns at Christiana. I feel a strange twinge of jealousy. On the walk down to breakfast Eric had told me that I was close to both of them. He didn't seem to have strong feelings about them one way or the other, and he apparently trusted them enough to leave me alone with him.

That was annoying, too. I didn't need a babysitter. Maybe some sort of tour guide, but hardly a babysitter.

"Well, he nearly killed me thinking I knew something." Christina sets her fork down and rolls her eyes. "That's the second time he's forced my life to flash before my eyes."

I don't know what her words mean, but Tris snorts. "He was just worried." She tells me. "He did storm through the hallways yelling at anyone who came near him. And I'm pretty sure Karl is scarred for life. Eric went after him with a vengeance."

The names float out of their mouths easily, and I try to taper down my feelings of sudden bitterness. It's not their fault I can't remember. I try to focus on the fact that in a few weeks I'll be sitting here, giggling with them like nothing ever happened.

I try to smile at them, and I take another bite of toast. "Well I'm back, and now he can go back to his normal easy going self."

Christina chokes on her coffee, coughing and sputtering while Tris looks at me with large eyes. Neither of them answers.

"I uh, sure. Maybe around you." Christina finally chokes out, and Tris pats her on the back.

 

 

I spend the morning with Eric, watching him type away furiously at his computer.

I'd watched him log on, noting that my name was his password, and my eyes had widened when the screen finally loaded.

There, behind all the icons on the screen, was a photo of him and I. He was staring up at me, his grey eyes focused only on me, my face captured in a wide smile.

 

 

He cooks dinner while I sit on the counter and watch him. Eric is focused on his task at hand; he methodically is browning hamburger on the stove. I watch the muscle in his tattooed forearm as he cooks, and when I finally move my stare to look up at him, he's watching me with a smirk.

"See something you like, Amity?"

His words make me feel hot, embarrassed that I've been caught staring at him.

"Do you ever call me by my real name?" I ask him. He stirs some sauce for a moment before he move to stand in front of me. His stare washes over me, grey eyes cataloging every tiny detail on my face.

"Sometimes." He says lowly. "Mostly at night."

I try hard not to squirm under his stare. I know what he's implying, and I have little doubt he's impatiently counting down the minutes until I remember just exactly how much of his wife I am.

"Funny." I tell him, trying to distract myself from thinking of us like that. Images of us pop into my mind suddenly. I can almost see him on top of me, one of his arms stretched to pin my hand above my head, his mouth on mine. I don't know if it's a memory, or something that I've just conjured up in my own mind.

Eric takes a step closer, until he stands between my legs. "You seem to like it when I say your name, Everly." His words are a hot drawl, and his eyes focus on my lips. He hasn't kissed me since he found me, but I wouldn't stop him if he tried. I could try to kiss him, I suppose. I try to imagine the look on his face if I were to lean into him right now. From what I've gathered nothing surprises Eric, but it's obvious he very much prefers to take the lead on everything.

"Do I call you anything?" I ask him. "Other than Eric?"

He shakes his head, his lips quirking upwards. "Not that I'm aware of." I think he might kiss me, and for some reason I wish he would press his mouth to my neck. But he simply takes a step and lets his stare linger. "Dinner's almost ready, Amity. You can set the table."

 

 

I kiss him first.

I don't know if it says much about me as a person, but I throw myself towards him, my arms looping around his neck and yanking him to me.

It was partially his fault. He'd come out from the shower and waltzed through the living room in nothing but his boxers. I could only assume that this what he normally wore when he was home alone. It was probably what he wore even after we'd been married. He seemed to have little issues with being half dressed in my presence, and it certainly didn't help the lusty feeling that seemed to work its way through my veins.

Was this how I felt around him normally? I could only wonder while my lips pressed against his; my hands working their way into his soft hair, until he jerked away from me.

"I can't." He announced, suddenly taking a step back as though I were the one that could easily knock him over. "Not until you remember."

He'd stared for half a second more, his eyes darkening before he stormed off, the muscles in his back tight. He returned a good fifteen minutes later, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants.

I sulked on the opposite end of the couch for the rest of the night.

 

 

Arlene calls on Wednesday.

There's nothing really going on. Eric is working on his laptop and I'm trying to organize my half of the closet. I had originally thought it might be helpful to go through my own stuff. That maybe it would jar something in my brain, but it's pointless. I don't recognize the clothes, and I don't want to throw anything out for fear that when I can remember again, I will have wished that I hadn't tossed some of my stuff away.

I can hear Eric talking to her, his voice sounding slightly relieved but mostly annoyed.

"Fine. Thank you." He finishes abruptly, and I can hear him stomping towards the bedroom.

"She said it could take two or three weeks for you to remember everything. They found only minute traces of the serum in your blood stream. It means you've metabolized most of it." He announces from across the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at me.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to put things in order. I thought it might help." My fingers graze over the fabrics on what appears to be my half of the closet. The clothes are mostly dark, but there are a good deal of lighter colors. Blues and greys, and one very pink dress that's hung up near the end. "I just want to remember now." I turn to look at him and he nods.

"Agreed."

I close the closet door. I haven't even touched anything from the inside but there's really no point. "What if I don't ever remember? What if my memory doesn't really come back the way it's supposed to?"

Eric eyes me carefully. "I'm not worried about that."

"But what if it happens?" I ask him, moving slightly towards him.

"Then I'll retrain you." He declares, shifting his weight. His large frame now directly in front of me.

"As a leader or as your wife?" I ask. I put my hands on my hips, hoping he has more answers than he's letting on.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise. "I never trained you to be my wife." He sort of smirks, looking pleased all of a sudden. "You just kind of happened into that position all on your own."

I stare up at him. "What do you mean by that?"

Eric shrugs. "It worked out rather well for the both of us."

"Did we have a big wedding?" I'm more than curious about my life with Eric. So far I've gathered that other than spending his time being a leader in Dauntless, he spends the rest of his time with me and only me. That he's rather territorial and that he's simply waiting until I can remember who he is before he pounces on me.

Eric stares at for a beat before he answers. "Define big."

I scowl at him, garnering from the subtle hint beneath his answer that I won't like the real answer he's got for me.

He grins. "No more questions. We're going to Clyde's." He pauses for the briefest of moments, and before he takes a step closer, his hand reaching for mine.

"Wait. Here." He slides the band on my finger, followed by a second ring. I stare down at it for a second, unsure of what to say.

The weight of it is familiar, and it looks right on my finger. It's gorgeously sparkly, and I try very hard to remember him proposing. I frown. I just can't quite picture him down on one knee.

"Evelyn sent it back. Along with your clothes." Eric says, and his words are very sharp. "It's why I thought you were…not coming back."

I take a step towards him, my stare raking up to his face and noting the tension in his face. His easy going mood is suddenly gone, and his eyes are narrowed. "I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner."

"I'm home now. That's all that matters." I tell him softly.

I've never been one to wish badly upon others, but in this moment, I can only think of vile terrible thoughts towards Evelyn.

 

 

Clyde's is fairly quiet, but I'm content to sit against Eric and sip on my drink.

We've been joined by his friends, who introduce themselves quickly, then become dead quiet.

"Tell her your real name, dumbass. Her memory will be back in a few weeks. She'll remember that you introduced yourself as Bob." Eric tells the one with the scruffy beard. He's slung his arm against the back of the booth behind me, and I grateful for how warm he is. Aside from his apartment, Dauntless might as well be outside. Even Clyde's is downright chilly.

"Fine. I'm Jason. This is Rylan. And for the record, we didn't really think you were dead." Jason announces and his fix somewhere above my head. "I even told Coulter here that we should hold off on the celebration until he was sure you weren't coming back."

I frown, turning to Eric. "You had a celebration because you thought I was dead? Christina said you were a dick to everyone because I was gone. I thought she meant you were upset."

Eric frowns, but it's in mock annoyance. "It's how we honor death here. We were celebrating the memory of your bravery. It wasn't an actual party."

Somehow his words don't make me feel any better. "Did you come to look for me before you had my celebration?" I stare at the drink in front of me, trying to count the bubbles fizzing inside of it. I get to seventy eight before Eric shifts uncomfortably.

"I was with Jeanine. She called me to Erudite the night you were taken. I had time to respond to Evelyn's letter and then I was called back to help Jeanine work out on a few things. It took me a week to pull together enough evidence that her death could be justified to the other Faction leaders." He takes a long swallow of his drinks and slams his cup down. "I knew you'd be alright for a minute. I'd taught you well enough to survive."

I find myself stuck staring at my drink, wondering if I should be flattered that he had enough faith in me that I would survive, or mad that he had enough faith in me to leave me to fend for myself. The romantic side of me leans towards the latter, but I have a feeling he knows I'm much stronger than I think I am.

"You still could have come."

My words are unfair, and Eric doesn't respond.

It's very quiet at the table until his phone beeps, loud and persistent. "I'll be right back." He stands suddenly, my whole body feeling cold when he removes his arm from behind me, and walks out of Clyde's to take his phone call.

Jason, or Rylan, or Bob, whoever he is, makes a coughing sound. "Don't be too hard on him. He's had a rough few weeks."

I look down at the table. "I'm not trying to be hard on him. It's just that everyone keeps telling me that they knew I wasn't dead, yet no one bothered to come look for me."

The one with the bun grins at me. "That's because Eric trained you. If anyone was going to survive being abducted it was you. And In Eric's defense, he really couldn't get away. Jeanine had him right where she wanted him. He was pretty torn up. And he did have us light off only pink fireworks in your honor. Because it's your favorite color. He was very specific about that."

I jerk my head up at him. "You guys lit those fireworks off? Was it late at night?"

The bearded one rolls his eyes. "He made us drive halfway out into the middle of nowhere to set them off. Said that it was the least he could do."

I take a sip of my drink, enjoying how sweet and sugary it is. The feeling is short lived. I sort of feel like a jerk now; Eric was obviously affected by my absence, and all I could focus on was why he didn't come after me.

"Well that was nice of you." I finally answer. "Thanks."

We are interrupted by a waitress dropping off several plates of onion rings. The two of them dig in just as Eric reappears. He looks a little more relaxed than when he left, and I stare up at him as he slides into the booth besides me.

I try to remember Arlene's words; that I need to be patient with Eric. He sort of smiles, his lips quirking up and he raises an eyebrow at his friends. "Max says there's a chance that you'll both be needed on Friday. He says be prepared and he'll let you know Thursday night."

He doesn't say anything else, but he does slide his arm back around me, and I push myself as close as possible until there is no space left between us.

 

 

Eric is reclined on his side of the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him. It's slightly odd to see him half undressed, bare legs and bare feet against his dark sheets. I make my way towards the bed, and he looks up at me, his eyes falling to the bottom of my nightgown. It's shorter than yesterday's and much softer. I was pleased when I pulled it out of the drawer, impressed that my normal self owned such a pretty item to sleep in.

"I saw them you know."

He looks at me curiously, his head cocked to the side. "Saw what?"

I approach the bed almost hesitantly. Sometimes he reminds me of a lion, perched in his den, just watching his prey play in front of him. Right now I feel like that, but I force myself forward, propelled by some sort of bravery from deep down. I keep my eyes on him as I climb onto the bed, sort of climbing halfway over him until I can settle onto his lap.

His eyes watch me carefully, a hint of amusement behind them.

Everything about Eric is very controlled, and he's been very careful to keep himself spaced just the right amount of distance away from me. But he can't get away from me now.

"The fireworks. I saw them when I was in Amity." I stare into his eyes, watching him just as carefully. He's devastatingly handsome up close. I wonder how many girls in Dauntless would kill to be with him like this. Or even dream of being this close to him.

"Did you?" It's more of statement than a question. "I guess we had excellent timing then."

For some reason his words make me giggle. The idea of him traipsing through the outer edges of Amity to light fireworks in my honor, when I was very much alive and well, is comical. I can almost picture his annoyed expression in my mind.

"Thank you." I tell him as my hands reach for him. One rests on his shoulder to mostly steady myself, but the other touches the skin above his collarbone. The dark tattoo stops right above them, and the inked skin is just as soft as expected. "I wish you knew I was out there."

He doesn't say anything, and I reach to touch the side of his hair. "How long have we been married?" I ask him, squirming until I'm slightly more comfortable. Eric's hands suddenly find my waist, his fingers digging into my sides.

"Get off of me." He suddenly snaps. He goes to sit up further, and I try hard to keep him in place.

"What? Why!" He ignores my protests, his hands still in place.

"Are you sure you don't remember being here?" He eyes me sternly. "This is your favorite thing to do. You decide you want to ask me something, and I find you in my lap, wiggling all over the place."

I chew on the side of my lip, trying really hard to remember my time with him. His eyes fall to my mouth as I shake my head no. "No, I still don't remember. Not yet." I finally tell him, and he closes his eyes tightly.

"Fine. You will. We can talk about our marriage then." He opens his eyes at stares past me.

I'm slightly taken back at his sudden change in attitude, but it's to be expected. It's only been a few days since I've been back, and I'm sure he wishes that I was my old self. I want to tell him I'm still the same Everly, I'm just missing a tiny chunk of my memories.

"Are you happy being married to me?" I refuse to give up for a second. I just want him to answer one more question. "Can you just answer that and then I'll go to bed?" I look at him sweetly, smiling at his grouchy face.

Eric exhales sharply, and I can see the exact moment he gives in. "One question, Amity."

"Do you love me? Will you, even if I don't get my memory back?" I sound longingly hopeful. For every reason in the world, his answer is important to me. I just need to know that he'll stick around, that even if I don't remember our time together, that he won't give up on me. Even though part of my mind is still blank, it's become apparent that my feeling for him haven't been erased what so ever.

"Please." I tell him.

His eyes become the slightest bit larger, and he scowls.

"That's two questions, and not the one I agreed to answer." He has the same stern tone to his voice as earlier. I ignore it. I snake my other hand behind his head, until both of my hands are anchored in his soft hair. I shift closer to him, closing the gap between us.

"Eric." I protest very softly.

Eric exhales sharply. "Yes."

"Yes?" I ask him, working my way closer. My chest is pressed up against his now, and his hands have moved off of my waist, creeping higher until one rests upon my back, pushing me against him.

The other finds my hair, his fingers knotting into the strands that graze past my shoulder blades.

"Are you going to sleep now?" He asks, raising one of his eyebrows.

I shake my head and lean into him, until my forehead touches his. "In a minute."

One of my hands finds his jaw, pulling his whole head towards mine. I can feel his breathing turn slightly ragged, and my heart feels like it could explode at any moment. It beats painfully, achingly fast in my chest.

"Go to bed, Amity." It's the last thing he says before his lips brush against my own. He stays there for a moment, until I press my own lips against his, slightly harder. I don't want him to stop. The fingers in my hair knot higher up, now tangled near my nape. He uses his it to his advantage, keeping my head against his as my lips part for him.

I don't plan on letting myself forget him ever again, and it's much easier to quell my impatience this way.


	30. Once More With Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you all enough for the kind words! It seems like there are so many new people following the story, so many of you who dug out your information or made an account so you could read the story, and so many of you who send the nicest messages.
> 
>  
> 
> Just a quick note and then I'll shut up --- These next few chapters are some of my favorites. I feel like it's a really cool trip back through their relationship, and if you squint, you'll pick up on some of their finer moments together. I thought long and hard about what makes them, well them, and sometimes it's their quietest times together that were the most telling.
> 
> Happy Monday!

Eric doesn't let me kiss him for long.

He breaks apart from me, his forehead still against mine, and he groans.

"You need to get off of me. Right now." His words sound tense, rough with restraint. I wonder if I've always been like this with him, forever wanting to be closer and closer, bravely trying to keep him against me. It's only taken me a few days to learn that Eric's control only extends so far. Unfortunately, right now he's fantastic at exercising it.

I feel his hands move back to my waist, and he unceremoniously moves me to the side of him. I watch him sulkily, and he screws his eyes shut then pushes the heel of his palm against them. "Its you, but it's not you." He mutters.

"I'm still me." I answer him, my fingers tracing over a stitch in the comforter.

He doesn't answer for a long time. I wait for him to say something, anything really. He finally looks at me, his stare somewhere on my bare shoulders and he sighs.

"I know."

 

 

"Hold still."

His words are hissed into my ear, his lips grazing against the outer edge. I try to ignore the shiver that runs through me. He's behind me, his hands on my waist and one digging into my hip. "To the left."

I aim the gun right where he's telling me, the target gently moving in the wind.

The rooftop is quiet at this time of day, deserted except for Eric and I. It had been my idea for him to help me. I wanted to get back into my normal routine as soon as possible, and I thought it might help relive a few of my first moments here. So I'd woken up Eric and asked if he would go over a few things with me like he had the first time I'd arrived in Dauntless. His smirk had told me he approved of the plan.

Rifle training must have been his favorite activity for us to share, probably because it gave him the excuse to press himself up against me under the guise of helping me. I didn't mind at all. He's solid behind me, his large form engulfing mine.

"Do you think I would have shot Colton if I had a gun?" I pull the trigger after I say the words, imagining the faceless man that took me from here. I pretend the target is his blank face. I hit dead center, and I swear Eric presses his nose into my hair as he nods.

"Again, Amity."

The nickname makes me feel warm and dizzy, almost as though I've heard it a million times before.

 

 

Karl has a black eye and he looks hesitant when Eric and I pass him on the way back inside, but he smiles. Sort of.

I wave at him, knowing who he is only because Eric told me, and he looks relieved at the gesture. Eric had only grunted in response when I said I wanted to go talk to him, and I have the feeling it was mostly because he was responsible for the black eye.

"Can you wait until you remember him?" Eric asks, stalling as we near the patrol squad. "You won't remember that he was out there, and I don't really want to get into this all over again."

I try not to snort.

Christina had brought me coffee this morning, and she'd happily filled me in on Eric's antics while I was gone. Despite the fact that he'd been called to Erudite, he'd managed to wreak havoc during the small amounts of time he'd been in Dauntless. Karl had been one of the casualties. Four had been another.

"The only reason he didn't kill Four was because he knew that he'd have to go after Evelyn after he took care of Jeanine." Christina told me while we sipped on our drinks. I'd sat beside her at the table, listening with rapt attention. Any sort of information about Eric was fascinating. It was like listening to the most entertaining gossip in the world. "And Four promised to help him take down Evelyn."

I wish I could tell her that I remembered Evelyn or that I knew what she had told me. I'd like to be of some sort of help. I get the feeling that I'd sat around like some damsel in distress, waiting for Eric to come save me. I suppose I could chalk it up to the head trauma, or maybe I simply wasn't as brave as I thought I was. Or maybe it was the romantic notion of Eric showing up with an army behind him that kept me in place.

I make a mental note to ask Eric about it.

"Are he and Four friends?" I ask.

Christina shook her head. "Not even close. They became sort of civil when you were assigned to help Four as one of the trainers. But they've never gotten along, and Four had been pulling some shady stuff with the factionless."

"Why?" I swirl my coffee around. "What was he doing?"

Christina had shrugged. "His mother is leading the Factionless. Tris said he was helping them because they wanted to take down Jeanine. He didn't like her either, but the Factionless aren't the ones to side with. I think it pisses him off that he didn't figure it out earlier. And Eric doesn't have a lot of patience with Four, but he would love to use Four against his own mother."

He didn't seem to have a lot of patience with anyone, except for me. I found it sort of endearing; one second he'd be scowling at every person that crossed our paths as we walked through the compound, and the next he'd been less scowling as his eyes fell on me.

It had become painfully clear that Eric didn't prefer to talk about his feelings. Forcing him to talk about them had proven to be less than successful. I'd learned more from his small touches than anything. And though he rarely touched anyone else, his hands seemed to find themselves on me.

I didn't mind though.

Not one bit.

"Does Eric mind that you don't remember everything?" Christina changes the subject very carefully, and I don't mind her curiosity. I'd probably feel the same if the situation was reversed.

"I don't know." I tell her. "I mean, he's mentioned that he wants my memory back just as much as I do, but I don't think it'll change too much if I don't wind up remember everything." My words sound hopeful and Christina grins.

"It won't. He's still as adorably clueless about his own feelings as he was before." She snickers. "I mean, he's obviously happy you're back."

"I'm glad I'm back, too." My words could not have been truer. Despite my lack of temporary memory failure, it would have killed me to stay in Amity. The mere thought makes me shudder. I'd much rather be here, with Eric, slowly remembering him than hiding out amongst the fields.

Christina stares at her mug, and her eyes knit together. "Besides, I really want you and Eric to be back to normal so we can all hang out again."

I nod at her, wishing that I could remember what she was talking about.

 

 

Christina helps me paint my nails.

It's nice to spend the day with her, even though I'm not entirely convinced Eric didn't ask her to keep an eye on me. We chat idly as she files them for me, and then paints them a really pretty shade of pink. She's talented at it, way more skilled than I would have been.

I can't thank her enough.

I stare at them long after she leaves, relishing in the way they no longer look like hands that have spent time digging up the Earth and finger painting.

 

 

It's the darkest part of the night when Eric jerks away, his breathing coming in sort of sharp achy gasps. He says my name and it sounds sort of painful, as though it's been ripped up from deep within him.

"Are you ok?" I mumble, shoving my hair out of my eyes. I'd been sound asleep next to him, my head against his shoulder and my fingers holding onto his hand. I'd only awoken when he'd moved away. I squint in the dark, noticing he's upright beside me, his face in his hands.

"Yeah." He answers, his voice rough. He rubs at his eyes before turning to blink at me. In the dark of his room he looks tired and strangely uneasy. "You just…weren't there. Again."

I can only assume he's had some sort of nightmare and I know for a fact he won't want to talk about it. He pushes the covers off of himself and climbs out of bed without another word. I hear him stomp towards the kitchen, and then it's quiet.

I give him a few minute to himself before I decide to follow after him.

The apartment is nearly silent, dark and slightly creepy in the dead of night. I make my way to the kitchen and my eyes blink at the low lighting coming from above the kitchen sink. Eric is standing in front of the counter, his eyes fixed on the glass of water before him.

"Eric." I say his name softly, not wanting to startle him. I'm sure he already knows I'm there, and not just because he's hyper observant.

"Go back to bed, Everly." He sort of snaps my name, but I ignore his tone. I walk up beside him, my hands coming to touch his arm. He jerks his head towards me, his face set in annoyance. "I said…"

"Did you have a nightmare?" I ask him, not bothering to let him finish. I move my hand up until I can pull on his forearm, pulling his inked skin towards me. "Are you alright?"

Eric stares at me, grey eyes unblinking even through his sleepiness. I can't help the sudden sense of déjà vu that washes over me. Like I've been here before, maybe not in his kitchen on a dark night, but we've shared this same sort of moment before.

I try to ignore the burgeoning feeling of hope in my chest.

I don't want to get my hopes up in case it means nothing, but it's there.

"I'm fine." Eric finally mutters. He turns to me fully, his bare chest almost against mine. "It started a day after you left. I thought it would go away after you were back." His words sound like an excruciating confession, and I know that in this rare moment, he's allowed himself to be open to me.

I nod at him, letting my fingers slide around his waist. Eric is as warm as ever, mostly from being buried beneath our bed sheets, and it doesn't take much before he lets himself lean into me, one of his arms encircling my back.

"I should have tried harder to get away. Then I could have been back here sooner." I whisper. A moment of anger rushes through me. I want to find Evelyn and hurt her just as much as she's hurt me, just as much as she's clearly hurt Eric. He shakes his head in dismissal at my words.

"Are you going to kill Evelyn?" I ask him, my head tilted up at him.

Eric sorts of huffs, and his lips smirk. "Do you want me to kill Evelyn?" His free hand reaches forwards and touches my cheek, his fingers sliding across it and into my hair before he pushes it back off my shoulder. "You've asked me this before you know. Not about Evelyn specifically. But about killing others."

"I have?" I stare at his eyes, trying to quietly prompt him to tell me more. "Did you do it?"

Eric's hand is still in my hair and it as though he's allowed himself this moment of luxury. For the first time since I've been back, his defenses aren't quite as high as they normally are.

"I killed Jeanine. I was the one that pushed for her to be executed, and then I performed the execution." Eric's words are tight, and he waits for my reaction. "The night you were taken I was called to Erudite. She said she was sorry that were gone, but that I had work to do. To not forget who helped put me in my position here. Then she gave me a list of names I was supposed to hunt down, she offered me a replacement wife when I completed her assignment."

My stomach drops.

Eric stares at me intensely. "I've learned to live with her blood on my hands. If you want me to kill Evelyn, I won't hesitate to. But you may want to talk with Four about your plans. He knows the best way to really get to Evelyn, and I have a feeling it's something more painful than her dying."

I don't need to point out that I don't really remember Four, but I nod at him, thinking about what Christina told me about the situation. Right now Evelyn deserved something worse than death, so I go along with it.

"Thank you." I tell him. I push myself up on my toes until I'm closer to him. "Now can you come back to bed? I promise I won't go anywhere." I let go of his arm and my hands move around his neck.

He nods, bending forward to brush his lips against my own before he yanks me against him.

"Good." He kisses me again, this time more soundly, until I'm the one to break away when my lungs finally protest.

 

 

I meet Four a day later, and he half smiles when he sees me.

"Welcome back." He sounds genuinely happy to see me, and I make my way through the training room. Eric had walked with me, and there was a definite reluctance that radiated from him. He'd told me to meet me in his office after, and then he's stared while I walked away, his eyes watching me carefully.

There is a class going on and most of them are focused on fighting each other. I watch them spar against their opponents, their movements practiced and well-rehearsed. There are a few with natural talent, and they easily move around their lesser skilled opponents.

Four raises one eye brow when I finally stop in front of him, and I try to ignore the darkened bruise around it. It blossoms out into his hair, the dark mark much larger the closer I get.

"What are you doing down here?" He asks, taking a step towards me. All around us the class is working hard, and only a few throw curious looks in our direction.

"What happened to your face?" I ask him. Up close it looks much worse. His nose looks slightly raw, and there's a red mark pressed into the skin of this throat as though someone's held him down in an attempt to stop his breathing.

"Your husband happened. Let's just say he didn't take your abrupt departure very well." He stands with his hands on his hips, his eyes suddenly looking less than amused.

I swallow, trying hard not to grimace at him. "Sorry." I mutter. I'm not entirely sorry, after all, I hadn't even been here when all of this occurred. But I do feel a little bad that Eric punched him. "I don't think Eric likes it when I don't tell him where I'm going."

Four looks at me, his lips curling up as though he can't decide if he should laugh or not. "Well, it's good to see you again. I heard that you can almost remember almost everything."

"Thanks. I can remember a lot of stuff, but not everything. Evelyn injected me with something she'd been working on. They said my memory should come back in a couple of weeks." I inform him, placing my hands on my hips. I watch a few of the initiates fall to the ground, one small blonde girl clutching her head. Her gaze is on Four, but he pays no attention.

Beside me, Four sighs heavily. "I'm sorry. It's partially my fault."

I jerk my head back towards him. "Why do you say that?"

"She's my mother, Everly. Thanks to me, she knew exactly who you were and she knew just what she needed to do to get Eric to her." He pauses, looking down at his shoes. "I told Eric that I'd lead the mission to take her down. We're heading there this Friday."

He looks up at me, and my stomach turns unpleasantly at his words.

 

 

"I don't want you to go."

I lean back against Eric and he sighs heavily behind me.

"It's not really an option at this point. Besides, I thought you wanted her dead." He tells me, trying to type around me.

I'd headed up to his office as soon as I saw done talking with Four. He'd filled me in on a few details that he thought I should know. He explained his reasons for helping his mother, and that he'd stopped abruptly when he caught wind of her real plans. Four wanted change, but not at the expense of what his mother was planning. I'd left with my head spinning with ideas, but all I could think of was what Eric was going to do.

I'd come to the conclusion that I didn't want him to go. Neither of us needed to be injured any further, and marching down there would be nothing more than an opportunity for him to be in the line of attack.

I'd made my way to his office, not bothering to stop and answer any of the curious stares thrown my way. I'd found him sitting as his desk with his spine rigid, and his eyes fixed on the screen in front of him. I didn't bother to say anything in greeting; I simply slipped behind his desk and seated myself upon his lap.

"You could get hurt." I told him, chewing on my lip. The idea had popped into my head on its own though I had no reason to think Eric would get hurt. As far as I could tell, Eric was well trained and obviously much smarter than Evelyn. I'm sure whatever army she had paled in comparison to the army that backed Eric. All of that did little to stop my sudden worry.

"I won't get hurt." He tells me. His head rests against mine for a moment, and he finishes up the e-mail he's working on. I read it quickly, not finding much interest in his reply to someone named Jack. He'd approved a request for another meeting, this one set for two days from now.

Eric hits send and then wraps one arm around my waist. "I have to do this you know. Not out of retribution for what she did to you, but for the safety of the city. It's not even remotely plausible for us to turn a blind eye to what she's trying to do."

I nod, but I don't say anything.

"Did you get hurt before? " I ask him, finally voicing my unexpected concern. "I just have this really bad feeling that something bad will happen."

I can almost feel Eric grin behind me. "Once. I got shot while on patrol. Max came and got you in the middle of the night." He pauses, and shifts me on his lap. "That's good sign though. Maybe you're closer to remembering than we thought."

I can only hope his words are true. I close my eyes, and sigh. "I hope so. I don't like not knowing everything that's going on." I pause, and I reach for Eric's fingers, having come to a new decision since he won't back down. "I want to go with you on Friday." I announce.

He reacts just like I expected.

Poorly.

"No." His response is almost violent, and he tightens his arm around me. "Absolutely not."

I turn to face him, and I'm greeted by his scowling face. I shake my head at him, moving my hands to reach around his neck. "I want to help. I feel like if I don't, I'll spend the rest of my day regretting it. I'm brave enough, I swear. And this way I'll know you're okay because I'll be there with you."

The scowl on Eric's face is replaced by a menacing glare and he looks livid. "It has nothing to do with if you're brave enough or not. I know you've been beating yourself up over not escaping from Evelyn, but this won't make anything better."

He stops and his eyes lock on mine. "You don't want this on your hands. Trust me."

His tone tells me that this subject is closed. I nod at him, knowing that it's easier to give in for the moment.

"Besides, there's no point in putting you back in danger. The minute she sees you, she'll send them after you. You were lucky to get away once." He answers darkly. He doesn't sound too impressed with my plan at all.

"Will you at least think about it?' My fingers find the short sides of his hair, then move to the back. I like the way it feels beneath my fingertips. "Please." I stare back at him, memorizing the way his eyes are grey, but also kind of a hazel color, the way his blonde hair is neatly shoved into place, and the way his lips are perfectly full.

The piercing above his eyebrow nearly disappears as he arcs his eyebrow up.

"No."

 

 

He makes me spaghetti for dinner, and then shoves himself against me on the couch. He's handed me a book, three books really, all with a boy on the cover.

"These were your favorite." He almost snaps the words, his mood not any better since I'd asked to come with him to kill Evelyn.

But he makes sure I'm curled against him as he reads through something on his tablet. I don't mind. He's warm and while he's definitely not soft, there's a comfort in being pressed against him. I open the first book and I lose myself in the story, reading until my eyes feel heavy. Eric's still engrossed in his tablet, his eyes fixated on a small group of people milling around a building.

I don't think too much of it.

My eyes start to close, and I fall asleep on him, a feeling of familiarity washing over me.

 

 

I try to keep up with him.

Going for a run had been Eric's idea, and while I was reluctant to leave his bed at the early hour, I found the fresh air quite the pleasant change. I'd been back in Dauntless for a little under a week, but under Eric's careful watch, I'd stayed inside except for my rifle training.

The sun feels good against my skin and my lungs seem like they can't breathe in enough of the cool air.

Eric keeps a steady pace and he's slightly ahead of me. Running had always been easy for me and even now it's not too hard to keep near him. He never gets too far ahead, and I don't doubt that he's scouted the area for the safest route.

The city is quiet and still sleepy, and there really isn't anyone out besides the few guards we've passed. They waved a careful hello and we'd easily made our way past them. Eric takes us through the majority of the outdoor compound, pausing briefly when we reach train tracks.

"This way, Amity." I follow obediently, trying to memorize the area around me. Some of it seems familiar; there are lots of tall buildings and arcing bridges, over grown banks and shadowy spaces. I commit each section to memory, noting the way Eric streaks us a particular route, then comes to a halt once we reach the edge of a tall structure. We head upwards; quickly make our way up to the highest point.

We stand at the top of the roof, hovering near the edge as the colors bleed together.

Eric stands near the edge, glancing down at the city below us. I come to a stop beside him, catching my breath for a second while he stretches lazily. He's glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, trying to nonchalantly keep me in his sight.

"You ready to head back?" He asks, and it's not really a question. I nod at him, shoving hair out of my eyes and we begin our descent. It's easier on the way down, and I pass him, watching him smirk slightly.

He beats me back to the compound, and for a blinding moment, everything feels back to normal.

 

 

I don't sit in on his meeting with Jack, but I wish I was.

I've walked with him to the conference room, and I watch as everyone files in. Max, a woman named Tori, a man named Jeremy who squints at me in confusion, Four, several men I don't know, and finally Tris. She ducks her head as she walks by me, smiling.

Our eyes meet and she nods, very slightly, and I know she'll fill me in on whatever Eric won't.

I stay by the door, pausing while Max ushers the final person in, and Eric's fingers find mine, pulling me towards him.

"I'll meet you for lunch." He tells me. Eric stares down at me until I nod, and then he yanks me towards him. "Till then, Amity."

He kisses me, sort of roughly, but he breaks apart all too soon for my liking.

I watch him head into his meeting, his lips smiling the slightest bit.

 

 

Tris looks slightly tense when I see her file into the cafeteria.

She makes her way towards the counters to pick something up, and I lose sight of her in the blur of dark clothing. It doesn't matter though; Eric slides into the seat next to me, his knee bumping into mine as he moves himself closer.

"We aren't heading out this week." He isn't really looking at me. He's staring more at the plate in front of him. I've picked up lunch for both of us, trying to figure out what he'd like. I'd settled on turkey sandwiches and some sort of pasta salad. "It shouldn't take longer than half the day, but we are prepared to fight until it's over."

"But I'm coming with you, right?" I ask him. I take a bite of my pasta. Sunday is only two days away, and it gives me little time to convince him to let me go along. "What happened to going there today?"

Eric shakes his head but I can't tell which question he's answering. "We need more time. Four can help us map out an attack. The better prepared we are, the easier this will be. I don't anticipate too much of a fight from the Factionless. Four explained that they've been trained, and we more than held our own with only three dozen men the last time we were there."

"So you'll go down there? And then what? How do you lure her out to you?" I take a sip of my water and meet his eyes. "I still want to go."

Eric stares at me, his eyes unimpressed as ever. "We'll use Four to draw her out. My only concern is that the Stiff decides he can't live without his mommy and bails on us. If that's the case then we blow them sky high and call it a day."

Eric's eyes fall to my plate. "Eat your lunch, Amity. I'm not making you lunch and dinner."

I take an exaggerated bite of my sandwich. The food in Dauntless has been occasionally questionable, but this meal seems fairly safe. "I'm going to go. I feel like I should be there when she realizes she's getting what she deserves."

Eric shrugs noncommittally. "You don't remember her. Or what she did. What would the point of you going be?"

I try not to feel insulted at his words. While I know I've been well trained by him, it hasn't exactly come back as a second nature yet. I don't really remember what he's taught me combat wise, but I know I can fire a gun. "She'll come out if she sees me."

"Of course she will." He snaps. "Which is exactly why you'll stay home. I don't need to spend any more of my time worrying about where you are." Eric takes a bite of his lunch, chewing angrily as he glares. He swallows for a second and sets his fork down. "I'll feel better knowing that you're safe in my apartment."

I try hard not to scowl at him.

I want to go, not just because I want to see her suffer. There is a huge part of me that wants her to know what if feels like to feel as terrible as I have. I want to wipe her memory clean, then let her wander around lost in her own empty mind. But I know it wouldn't be the same. I woke up with the intense yearning for my new life. She would wake up to nothingness.

Which is all that she deserves.

But I want to be there with him, together, when he takes her down. I try to think of a better way to convince him, but it's no use. He's back to angrily eating his sandwich as though it's personally committed a crime against him.

I turn my gaze to watch as Four makes his way through the cafeteria, his shoulders slumped and his head down. He perks up for the barest of seconds when Tris passes by him, smiling brightly. He sighs when she makes heads the opposite direction, and his shoulders fall forward again.

Eric follows my stare, and he sneers when he sees who I'm staring at. "I know you never got the opportunity to witness it, but those two used to be attached at the hip. It's a shame they didn't work out." There's a hint of mockery to his words, and I get the idea that he thinks little of their prior relationship. I nudge his knee with mine and he smirks.

I watch Four carefully, noting the miserably distressed look on his face as he watches Tris walk away, and I realize I know exactly how he feels.

 

 

My heart leaps for joy when their plans get pushed back by an entire week.

It's nothing majorly problematic; it's just that Max has decided they needs more time, because they have one chance and he's not about to blow it because Eric and Four are too busy arguing over every single detail to actually come up with a sound plan of attack.

I wish I could have seen Eric lunge for Four's throat after Four insulted Eric's mother. I don't know if I've ever met her, but all I know is Tori managed to get between them, and now neither of them are allowed to sit next to each other in meetings ever again.

 

 

In theory, Fridays are the best.

Not only does it mean it's the last day of work for Eric and he'll have two whole days off, I know he has nothing planned since they aren't going after the Factionless until next Friday. It means that he and I can sleep in, that I can find myself pleasantly snuggled beneath him, his arms around me.

In his sleep Eric is much more relaxed, unable to keep himself distant when he's not conscious enough to control himself. It's become some of my favorite times with him. I can push myself as close as possible, squeezing every last ounce of air from between us, and he can't stop me.

But this Friday sucks.

It starts at breakfast. Tris miserably informs Christina and I that she and Jeremy are no longer together. It came about rather suddenly, well suddenly for me since I can't remember their relationship, but he dumps her because he thinks she's simply not trying enough.

"I don't know what else to do. He said I don't seem interested, and I'm distracted. He even had the nerve to ask if I was back with Four." She's mostly talking the muffin in front of her, but Christina and I nod sympathetically. I haven't witnessed her and Jeremy together, but she's never spoken badly of him. "He said that I needed to get my priorities straight. That I spend too much time in my head and not enough time with him."

She looks disheartened as she wipes at her eyes angrily. "It took a lot for me to open up to him and now I feel stupid."

Christina slams her coffee cup down, nearly spilling her drink. "He's an idiot. Don't let him get you down. He hardly knows anything about you. And blaming Four is a weak excuse on his part." She looks at me for help and I nod furiously, hoping my agreement seems sincere.

"Maybe he's jealous of you and Four? Didn't you say you were talking with him the other day?" I take a sip of my drink, trying to think of something more helpful to say. I don't want Tris to be miserable. My chest hurts a little bit for her.

Christina's eyes light up. "Of course he is. He can't compete with what you and Four had."

Tris smiles sadly. "Four and I don't have that anymore. And I'm sorry, I just couldn't force myself to be who Jeremy wanted. I'm not like that. I couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear, just because he wanted to hear it. I wanted him to like me for me, not who he wanted me to be." She looks up, and her eyes look slightly watery. "At least Four liked me the way I was."

Christina throws me a worried look and I nod at her.

I can't help but focus on Tris's words.

I can't help but think that's all anyone wants.

 

 

Friday doesn't improve by lunch.

Eric slides into the seat next to me, but he's got Jeremy with him, and they are both scowling as though they are in some sort of competition for who can look the most annoyed. Eric wins by a landslide.

"It's not fair." Jeremy is snapping. "I just don't understand why this is falling on me. Isn't there someone else to pick up the slack?" His eyes fall to me, and he snaps his mouth shut suddenly. "Hey, Everly." He says my name as though it's my fault that he's being forced to be polite.

"Hey." I tell him, swinging my eyes back to Eric. "Hi Eric."

Eric frowns as though he's just realized I'm sitting by him, and he exhales sharply. "We have to work late tonight. That means you're on your own for dinner."

I can't help the frown that crosses my face, and my eyes fall to my plate. "Oh."

But he doesn't notice; he's too busy trying to deflect Jeremy's whining and I watch as he rubs at his temples, already fed up with the day.

 

 

I spend the evening alone, wishing desperately Eric was here. I try to make the best of my time though. I snoop through Eric's apartment under the theory that it will help me remember something. I read every book title on his shelves, I thumb through a few of the glossy magazines that are shoved into his mail, and I look through his closet.

Eric's clothes are all dark; there is nothing brighter than a dark blue, and most of the shirts are the same heavily stiff fabric. They all smell like him, like his laundry soap and his cologne mixed with something else. His boots are neatly lined up below the shirts, all dark and shiny, and there is a single pair tennis shoes and two pairs of dress shoes. His dresser reveals the same; meticulously folded black t-shirts, luxuriously soft boxers, and a few pairs of black pants. Even his socks are black.

My side of the dresser is slightly brighter.

There are lots of very pretty, dreamily lacey underwear and matching bras, lots of fancy nightgowns, a few of Eric's shirts, and several draws of soft tank tops and flowy skirts. I hold up a white nightgown, grimacing when I realize it's from Amity. I shove it further back, hoping I never see it again.

I shut the drawers with a sigh when I realize I won't find anything exciting here. My eyes scan the room until they land on his side of the bed.

Maybe his night stand will be slightly more entertaining.

I pull open the drawer to find nothing too interesting. A few watches, a couple of books that look like more educational material than fun, a gun with an extra case of bullets beside it, several sheets of paper that look like medical records, and our marriage license. I glance down it, finding Eric's very neat signature next to my very loopy one. It makes me smile, seeing our names together like that. I smile, moving to set it aside when I fall upon a final medical packet.

I squint at it, flipping through the paperwork until I land on the final page.

It has Eric's name as my trainer, but my last name is written as something other than my own.

I stare for a moment, something slipping up the base of my spine.

Something burns, white hot, and my eyes widen at the names printed at the bottom.

Eric Coutler.

Everly Coulter.

It can only mean one thing.

I'd married him before I was done with my training class.

 

 

I shove the papers back in the drawer, my whole body humming with excitement.

I had stared at the names on the paper for a long time, my brain working furiously as I studied them. I could feel the start of something pulling at me. It came into my mind suddenly; the blank face of a girl, informing me that I'd have to take it up with my husband.

I couldn't remember exactly what I needed to take up with my husband, but if the memory was real, it had something to do with my marriage to Eric. I sit back on my heels for a moment, staring at his side of the bed.

This is good, really good. While this tiny blip of something is nothing major, it meant that my memory was starting to come back. I feel like I could remember more if I just had the tiniest bit of a push. Something to trigger more memories.

I brush my hair out of my eyes as it comes to me.

I'll just ask him.

I know he won't willingly offer up the information. At least not at first. I twist a piece of my hair round my finger, trying to decide how brave I really am. Brave enough to leave Amity, brave enough to leave my family behind, brave enough to choose Dauntless, and brave enough to marry the man training me.

I glance back at the dresser and my eyes land on the top drawer, the one that contains one slightly more revealing, very lacy and prettily pink nightgown.

I know just how to get him to talk.


	31. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support for this story. I appreciate it so much. In the whole time I've written it, very few people have disliked it. I've been so happy that so many of you have enjoyed reading it. It seriously makes it all worth it.
> 
> So thank you for all your messages, reviews, kind words, and your patience. It is very cool to see who this story has touched. I was working on a friend's hair today and we got to talking about what we wanted for Christmas. I asked her what she wanted and she flat out glared at me and answered, "Everly's memory back." I told her maybe. jk jk!
> 
> There is a bonus to this chapter too! So someone asked for an outtake from Max's POV. More specifically, the first time he sees her or assigns her to Eric, his reasons for giving her the wrong key, what he thought of their marriage, and even Arlene. I've added it to the end of this chapter since I don't want to create a whole other story for it. It's minor enough that you can skip it if you want ;)
> 
> I am also so honored to announce that WhosThatChic has created a video for this story. It's seriously crazy good, and it's amazing to see the images reflect that story that's been told. Follow the link and check it out! It's so good! She's done an amazing job, and it's always really cool to see the characters you are reading about.
> 
> The video is posted on her youtube channel : http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQhbW-GFntPvXgvBPFnTwbw?feature=mhee
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who has been in contact with me. You guys are wecome :)

Seduction is apparently not my thing.

Mostly because I manage to fall asleep before Eric comes back. One moment I'm half dressed, the pretty nightgown slipped over my head, propped up against his pillow, just waiting for him to come stalking through his bedroom door.

The next moment I can feel my eyes closing. The bed is warm, and it smells just enough like him that I push myself closer, letting my head fall against the pillows. I pull the covers up slightly, thinking I'll just keep myself warm until he returns, and then I'll coax my answers out of him.

And it shouldn't be too hard to do. Judging by the way Eric has been shoving himself away from me in the early mornings, it's obvious he enjoys my body pressed up against his. Really enjoys it. It's becoming clear he's trying to do what he thinks is the right thing. He's keeping his hands to himself until I remember him, but I know he'll run out of patience, probably sooner rather than later.

I'd picked up on a few things in my week of being back, not the least of which was that Eric seemed to make up the rules of our relationship as he went along. It was obvious he was frustrated at his current loss of control over our relationship. It didn't help that I wanted him to tell me everything about us, and that I had spent most of my free time trying to get him to spill the most intimate details.

I wondered what it was like to be the only person to remember our relationship. I tried to imagine how he was feeling, since he wasn't about to just come out and say it. Eric was still closed off, even in the midst of our marriage.

My gaze falls to his nightstand.

His phone is sitting atop of it, blinking idly.

Only recently, I'd heard some of the quieter rumors make their way towards me; tales of Eric dangling initiates over the chasm, seemingly to their impending death; dark threats and cold stares; and a generally cruel mindset towards those who wished to join his faction.

None of that mattered to me.

I'd seen the way he looked at me when he thought I couldn't see him. The way his demeanor changed, the way he looked almost hopeful every night when he came home. The way, when he thought I was completely asleep, he'd gently kissed my forehead. I had tried hard to stay still during that one. I could still feel how he'd brushed the hair off my face, his large hand cupping my face before he moved closer to me, the warm feeling of his lips on my skin.

It had made my heart threaten to burst in that moment.

Other than that, he'd done his best to make sure I was comfortable, safe, and that I knew I was his. His thinking wasn't very forward; in fact, it was almost caveman-like. But it didn't matter. Despite my desire to choose a life of bravery and exert my independence, it was very obvious that I felt something, very deeply, for this man. It was strong enough that I'd chosen to stay with him, residing happily in our married life.

I wonder if Eric's been trying to avoid talking about our relationship because it started before I finished training. Could this be the reason that he's been rather silent, only giving me small bits of information to keep my curiosity satisfied until I can remember everything on my own? Perhaps he's worried about how I'll react when I learn that he married me while he was still training me. Maybe he's afraid I'll freak out, or I'll be horrified by my own actions.

I know that deep down I'm fine with all of it. It's obvious that what I feel for him transcends my memory loss, and it won't matter if it takes forever to come back. But I'll get some answers from him tonight if it's the last thing I do.

In the end, my ill-fated plan doesn't even get a chance to work, because I fall asleep thinking of my own husband.

I wake up to find Eric next to me.

He's stretched out on the bed, his large frame propped up against the dark pillows. I sit up suddenly, rubbing at my eyes.

"How was work?" I ask him, my voice heavy with sleep. I inwardly curse when I realize it's late, and I've slept through most of the evening.

"Far too much time spent with Four and his stupid ideas." Eric answers flatly. His stare lands on my freshly washed hair, then falls to the strap on my bare shoulder and he narrows his eyes.

"Aren't you cold?" he asks, shifting slightly. I can tell he's trying not to stare, and I can only assume he's very familiar with what I've got on.

I shake my head at him. I've been buried beneath his sheets for some time now, warmed by sleepy thoughts of him.

He steels his face. Of course, only Eric would become suspicious of someone in their pajamas. I try to look innocent as I scoot closer until I'm against his side, the blanket still covering most of me.

"Did you figure out a plan?" I ask him.

His eyes lazily trail up to mine, pausing as his lips smirk. "We did. One that will remain under wraps until next week."

I smile at him, widening my eyes innocently. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone," I say as persuasively as I can. He simply shakes his head, and leans back until he's reclined back a bit further. He puts both of his hands behind his head and closes his eyes.

"Nice try, Amity. The only thing you should be planning for is what sweater you'll be wearing tomorrow," he retorts, his eyes still shut.

The room is silent for a moment before I hear his phone go off. The sound rudely breaks the stillness, beeping impatiently beside him. He doesn't move to answer it, and it stops for a brief moment before continuing again.

"Who's calling you now?" I ask him. The clock beside his bed reads a little after midnight, and I can't fathom who would be calling him at this hour.

"No one," he snaps as his eyes open. He reaches for the phone and picks it up, his face rather disinterested.

I catch a glimpse of the name that flashes on the screen.

"Why is Karl calling you now? Is everything okay?" I sit upright a bit more and lean into him. He lets the phone stop ringing and he shakes his head.

"It's fine."

Karl calls again, and this time I have the sinking feeling that Eric is hiding something from me.

"Aren't you going to answer the phone?" I ask him, feeling rather suspicious.

He shrugs almost dismissively. I don't like that he's keeping something from me, so I lunge for his phone.

"What are you doing?" He jerks the phone away, turning to glare at me. "Everly."

He barely gets my name out before I rise up, awkwardly kneeling over him. I reach for it again, determined to find out why someone is calling him in the middle of the night. It's too bad for me that he shifts beneath me, attempting to shove the phone away.

"What has gotten into you?" he hisses.

I try to climb over him, and it only takes a second before I lose my balance and fall gracelessly off his bed. I smack into the nightstand and groan, rubbing at the back of my head.

"Ow."

"Fuck," he swears, lunging off the bed and trying not to step on me. He reaches down, his hands pulling me up by my waist. He steadies me for a second, his grey eyes searching mine. His hands move to find my head, jerking it roughly as his fingers feel through my hair. "Damn it, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I swear," I tell him, feeling myself grow hot, but mostly with embarrassment. I'm fairly certain this is the most mortifying moment Eric has ever witnessed. I wonder how many other girls have managed to make an idiot of themselves on this sort of level. I pull up the straps of my nightgown, my pride slightly wounded. "I'm alright." My head doesn't hurt at all, and I've more just bonked it than anything.

Eric is faintly swearing, his warm hands digging into my side.

His grey eyes find mine, locking intensely on my own as he shakes his head.

 

 

He doesn't believe me, so he drags me to Arlene.

I sit on the infirmary bed, pulling the jacket tighter around me. He'd first made sure I changed, almost throwing a shirt and a pair of boxers at me. I try to avoid his stare as he sits next to me. He hasn't really said much, and I'm almost relieved when Arlene's familiar form appears.

The feeling is fleeting.

Arlene reads through the chart as she walks, and her eyes nearly roll out of her head when she stops in front of me. "Everly, dear, how did you manage to hit your head again? I'm beginning to think we should issue you some sort of helmet."

My entire face reddens at her words.

I debate for half a second whether to make something up. To tell her I tripped over Eric's boots, or I fell out of bed while sleeping. Anything other than telling her that I had fallen off Eric's lap while trying to grab his phone.

But Arlene is waiting patiently, her face very interested in my answer.

"I fell off of Eric."

The minute I say the words I regret them.

Arlene's whole face contorts, as though she's trying very hard not to laugh.

"You fell off of Eric. What were you and Eric doing?" Arlene is staring at the paper in front of her, her pen stilled in place. Beside me Eric is staring at the wall, his eyes wide, an unreadable expression on his face.

"We were talking," I tell her, trying to sound casual. It's not entirely untrue.

My story works until Eric snorts.

Arlene's head snaps to Eric and he rolls his eyes. "Everly managed to fall off the bed. We're just here to make sure she doesn't have a concussion. That's all the information you need."

Arlene purses her lips and stares at me for a moment, and she must decide to take pity on me. "Does your head hurt?" she asks. "At all? Any dizziness? Nausea? Vomiting? Blurred vision?" She rattles off the symptoms as her fingers prod through my hair. I shake my head no, and she holds up a light in front of my eyes. After following the light for a moment, she decides I'm fine.

"I think you'll live. I'm going to just suggest that you and Eric be a little more careful while having your…" she pauses, smirking at me, "discussions."

I glance at Eric, but his stare is fixed on the ceiling, his eyebrows raised so far up I can't see the piercings anymore.

"I can give you something for the pain if you want. We have a really mild painkiller we can order up. We could also inject something to…"

"No." I stop her, shaking my head furiously. "I'm fine. And I don't want you to inject me with anything. Ever again. I've had enough things injected into my neck lately, and I'm done. Write that on my chart."

Arlene stares at me for a long moment before she speaks. "Are you sure about this? Do you remember what you're scheduled to receive? I actually need you to come back next week. We never got around to giving you…"

"No. Nothing else. Not until I can remember everything," I interrupt, telling her firmly. I've decided I've had enough of foreign substances being forcefully pumped into my bloodstream. Whatever she was going to give me, whether some sort of antiviral medication, some sort of vaccine, or some sort of painkiller, it can wait until I feel like myself again.

Eric's head snaps to mine and he looks curious, his eyebrows knitting inwards. Arlene is staring at him, as though she's willing him to comment on my words.

"You're ok with that?" She finally asks him, as though I'm incapable of making my own decisions. Eric can pick up on my irritation. His eyes meet mine, and he has the nerve to smirk.

"It's not my decision," he says, shrugging. "Just wait 'til her memory is back. Then you can go over everything with her."

Arlene's face changes, shifting into total delight. "Well, fine." She takes a step back, and her smile stretches widely. "I've been waiting for this for a while, you know."

I don't know what she means, but Eric must, because he rolls his eyes again and slides himself off the table. "Keep waiting. She'll be back in a week." He reaches for me, his hands finding my waist before he yanks me off the table. He keeps his hands in place for a moment before he steps away.

"I'll make a note of it," Arlene says, and she waves us off. "Have a good night."

"What is she talking about? She's been waiting for what?" I ask as Eric leads me out of the infirmary. I pull his jacket around me tighter, trying to stay warm in the cold hallway.

"She really needs a hobby or something." It's all he mutters before he reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.

It takes the entire walk back to the apartment before I can fully look at Eric. I'm not embarrassed that I tried to get him to talk, I'm more embarrassed that I fell off of him and managed to hit my head for the millionth time. At this rate, I'm destined to never remember anything because I've smacked too many of my brain cells around.

Eric unlocks the door and turns to me, leering down at me. "Here. I don't want you to trip over the doorway."

Before I can glare at him he bends down and slides his hands beneath my knees. He picks me up easily, walking us through the doorway as he kicks it open, then closed, and heads us towards his bedroom.

"Funny," I tell him as he less than gracefully drops me onto his bed. "And I said I was fine. You didn't need to bring me to Arlene."

Eric stands at the end of the bed and he shrugs as he pulls his own jacket off. "I wanted to make sure."

"Are you related to Arlene? She seems to be rather fond of you," I tell him, watching him pull his shirt off.

"I've known her for a while." His tone is indifferent, and he stands suddenly, staring down at me. For a moment everything seems to slow down. Eric is staring at me as though he's never quite seen me before. His eyes are not cold or narrowed in annoyance, and his face is relaxed. Earlier tonight, his eyes seemed almost lustful, but now they seem to flicker with something else, something warmer. "She's a friend of my parents."

"Have I met your parents?" I ask him. I sit up slightly, moving to take off his jacket.

Eric doesn't answer right away, and he seems lost in his thoughts for a moment. "No. You haven't."

He doesn't seem to want to talk anymore. He clamps his mouth shut, and reaches for the button on his pants. He heads towards the bathroom, starting the shower then slamming the door shut before I can even think about following him.

 

 

Eric and I are walking to the conference room when he comes to an abrupt halt in front of an empty office door, having caught sight of a older, tall man speaking to Max.

"That's Marcus Eaton." Eric spits the words contemptuously. He seems angered by the man's presence.

"Who is he?" I ask, taken aback by his attitude. I had picked up on the fact that Eric didn't like most people, but he usually maintained a rather disinterested exterior. It took a lot to force a reaction from him.

Eric's lips curl into a sneer, reflecting his distaste. "He's the leader of Abnegation. He's also Four's father." My eyebrows rise in surprise at this news, and I take a step closer to Eric. He cocks his head towards me.

Four's father is taller than I would have expected, and rather unfriendly looking, too. Perhaps years of living in Abnegation have worn away all of the niceness from him.

"That asshole is far from the selfless leader he pretends to be. His abuse of his wife, Evelyn, drove her to leave and become factionless. But then she's no prize, either, since she ran and left Four behind to endure his father's beatings alone. Even better, she let him think she was dead until not too long ago." Eric certainly harbors no great love for Four, but it's obvious he is disgusted by the treatment he received at the hands of both of his parents.

It makes my chest ache in a rather sharp way to think about Evelyn abandoning Four to Marcus. I don't understand how she could have saved herself and not her son. To just leave him behind, hoping he could make it through the days. The Four that lives in Dauntless now is hardly the same young boy Evelyn left behind, but I know that one doesn't just forget their entire childhood like that.

Max catches sight of us, nodding his head at Eric. I watch him flash Eric a look of disbelief at the man in front of him. Apparently, Marcus must have showed up in Dauntless unannounced, cornering Max and insisting they talk. I feel Eric's hand reach for my elbow, guiding me forward. We make our way towards them, coming to a stop in front of Max's office door.

"What are you doing here?" Eric hisses the words at Marcus. Eric is never outwardly rude to others that hold the same position as him, but in this case, I think Marcus more than deserves whatever treatment he gets.

Marcus turns his eyes to Eric, taking him in as one would size up an opponent. It's a battle he would lose, no doubt. While Marcus is older and slightly taller than Eric, Eric is a heavily muscled soldier, and definitely not someone to be messed with.

"You have no business here." Eric's words are an icy threat, and they work. I can see the hesitation flicker on Marcus's face, even if it is fleeting.

"I'm not here to see you," Marcus says, and his words are even and measured. "And actually, I am here on business. On behalf of Abnegation."

"Doubtful," Eric answers coolly. He turns to me, taking a step closer, and he bends his head down. "I'll see you for lunch, Everly. You and your friends can eat without me." He stares at me for a beat, his grey eyes holding mine, willing me to understand his next words. "Tell them I'll see them around _four_ o'clock to help them finish up their day."

I must have been fluent in Eric before all this, because I get what he's saying. I nod at him, and I reach for him. My hand clutches into the stiff fabric of his jacket, and I rise up to kiss his cheek.

"Okay. Want me to save you a sandwich?" He shakes his head, and he stares down at me, his grey eyes fixed on me for a moment.

He lets me go after a few heartbeats, and he turns back to Marcus and Max. "I have a free hour. I'd be more than happy to join you."

Max smiles politely.

There's no happiness in Eric's voice, and I hope Marcus picks up on it.

 

 

I find Four working with his class.

There's still a half an hour before they break for lunch, and they are diligently fighting away, paired off in small groups. I walk through them, striding towards Four purposefully. He cocks an eyebrow when he notices I'm there, and I smile at him.

I'm worried about his father being here.

I doubt that many people know that Marcus is his father, and I only know because Eric told me, yet somehow I do get the sinking feeling he's up to no good. I can't quite figure out why I feel like that, but so far I've heard nothing good about him.

"Everly." Four greets me, carefully stepping across the mat. He throws a quick glance back at the class before looking back to me. "Everything alright?"

"Kind of. Your dad's here. He said he's here on business." I say the words quietly, and Four immediately stiffens, tilting his head towards the training room doors.

"Where is he?" There is a hint of unease in his voice, and his posture suddenly shifts to something more defensive. "Is he here alone?"

I nod at him. "I saw him with Max. He said he needed to talk to him. Eric decided to sit in on their meeting, so I left."

Four processes what I've said and nods reluctantly. He looks thrown off suddenly, his features unnaturally tight. "Alright. What are you doing until they're done?"

I shrug at him. "Nothing really. I was going to stay with Eric but he took off to join Max. Do you need help with anything?" I make the decision to try to stay with Four. While I'm sure Marcus isn't about to come storming in here, I have this feeling I should stay put.

Four nods and motions for me to follow him. "We're almost done, but you can help me score them. Watch each one carefully, and assign points to how well they do. I know you won't know the names, but just ask me. They're set up in order of first ranked to last ranked."

He hands me a clipboard and I can't help but feel worried. Four looks distracted now, his eyes scanning over the class and I can tell he's miles away. He finally throws me a small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

We're interrupted by a small shriek. Someone's managed to kick their opponent in the face, and the blood is everywhere. Four sighs, and I follow him over to the poor kid.

I'm grateful for the distraction. It's enough to make me almost forget about Marcus being here.

Four and I eat lunch on one of the low rooftops, well below the Pire.

There's no sign of Eric or Max or Marcus, so I stick with Four and I follow him from the training room up a short flight of stairs to the rooftop. We sit in the sun, enjoying the slightly warm rays while we eat. It's quiet here, and for a moment I almost forget I'm in Dauntless.

"You okay?" I ask him, breaking the silence. He hasn't really spoken since we came up here, but it's not uncomfortable. Four is naturally more reserved, but both he and Eric are content to sit lost in their own thoughts. He finally shrugs.

"Just thinking about Marcus. He's here because he's worried that she'll come after him." Four takes a bite of his sandwich before he stares somewhere to the side of us. "He's never been anything but a coward, but he's been able to hide it for a long time."

"He thinks your mother will come after him?" I watch him carefully. "Because…"

Four smiles, sort of a half-smile. "Because he hurt her. And he thinks she'll come to hurt him out of spite."

"How does he know about her?" I ask him, trying to sound patient. In reality I want to pull on his arm and make him talk faster.

"I keep forgetting you don't remember everything. He's the leader of Abnegation. He's well aware of what goes on behind the scenes. He's got resources everywhere. How else do you think he covered up the past?" Four doesn't sound bitter, and I can't help but admire that. It's rather selfless of him, or maybe it's just a way to cope with what he's been through. But his words do sound bothered, as though the mere thought of his father is enough to transport him back in time.

"He's probably here to ask for protection." Four continues on. "Funny that he would be worried that he could possibly be hurt." There's little humor in Four's words. His face is drawn and his shoulders are tensed up near his ears.

I frown. "Will they give it to him?"

Four shrugs. "Who knows. It won't be me, though."

We eat in silence for a few moments before he speaks again. "Everyone in my family is either a monster or some sort of traitor." He stares at his hands before he flashes his eyes up to me. "It's a rather crappy realization."

"You're hardly a monster. And you're only kind of a traitor," I tell him, half joking. He sort of huffs. "I'm glad you were able to escape him and start a new life here," I say the words softly, not sure at what point I'll be overstepping my bounds.

Four smiles at me, but it's sort of a sad one. He shifts his stare as reaches for his water. "You're too nice, Everly."

"Besides, you have Tris…" I trail off and Four's face falls slightly.

"I don't have Tris anymore." He points out. He squints down at his sandwich and shakes his head. "Can I ask you something?"

He sounds genuinely curious, so I nod.

"Tris said you and Eric have a surprisingly happy marriage. How?"

I let out a laugh. "Is this a serious question? Or…" I trail off.

Four shakes his head. "Serious, I guess. You're the exact opposite of him, yet the two of you seem to work for some unknown reason." He stops, the corners of his mouth suddenly turning down. "You seem happy with him. Even if you don't remember everything. Come to think of it, you were happy with him during your training, too."

I flip my sandwich over, debating on heading back to the mess hall to pick out some fruit. "How could I not be happy with him?"

Four grimaces. "What exactly do you see in him? He was a traitor, you know. I mean, he all but held Jeanine's hand while she planned her attacks." He sounds slightly accusatory, but I brush it off. He needs to get this off his chest, I suppose.

I decide to ignore his tone. "Eric is just Eric. He's dark and dreamy, he's handsome and he's funny, and he's sort of dangerous." I tell him, widening my eyes as I think about him. I can picture him in my mind, his grey eyes and his lips smirking as he stared at me.

"He's very dangerous." Four answers, his voice rather flat. "Or he was."

"He doesn't seem very dangerous to me. He spends most of his free time with me, and we spent a lot of time in bed." I say the words without thinking, and I watch Four as the tips of his ears turn red. "Sorry, not like that. I mean we spend a lot of time just being together."

"I don't need to know what you two do together." Four sounds slightly flustered. "I just don't understand how he wound up with someone so nice. It almost seems unfair."

I shrug, not having any better answer for him. "I don't know what else to tell you. I adore him." I stop, trying to keep a straight face. My feelings for Eric are obviously a point of curiosity for Four. "But you'll end up with someone nice. Maybe you and Tris will end up back together."

Four stares at me for a moment before he shakes his head. "We should head back soon. I need to be back before the class finishes their lunch." He moves to grab our plates, rising to his feet. "It was nice eating lunch with you, Everly. I hope you remember everything soon."

I smile up at him in agreement. "Me too."

 

 

Eric looks rather violent when I find him.

His whole body is tense, and his hands are clenched into fists.

"Are you okay?" I ask him. I've found him in his office, staring at his computer screen as though he's contemplating putting his fist through it. "You look a little stressed out."

His head snaps up to mine and his eyes flash with anger. "Marcus was here to ask for amnesty in the event of Evelyn attempting any sort of attack. He said he plans to protect his faction by all means necessary." I watch as he grits his teeth together. "He knows exactly where she is, and he knows what she's been doing. And in all these past months, he's made no move to alert anyone."

Eric's eyes meet mine, icy and cold. "He's just as guilty as she is."

 

 

Eric still looks violent a few hours later when Tris and Four join us for dinner.

Both of them look mildly uncomfortable. They are seated next to each other at the large dining room table, and both are glancing around as though waiting for some sort of surprise attack. I'm sitting across from Tris, smiling around my spaghetti and trying not to beam with excitement.

It was my idea to invite them over. I thought it would be a good way for Eric and Four to come to some sort of temporary truce, at least long enough to take down Evelyn. And it was a great way for me to spend time with Tris. I had this weird feeling that I missed her, even if I couldn't recall our entire friendship.

Eric had been unimpressed.

"You want to invite them over to our apartment. To eat dinner? With us?" He had sounded testy when I told him. I'd nodded, batting my eyes at him when he'd only grunted in response. But he'd gone along with it, mostly because he needed Four's insight into his plan. And because he didn't have a very good reason as to why they couldn't come over.

"This apartment is huge." Tris is taking it all in, her eyes wide and her fork in midair. "It's really nice."

Eric stays silent, chewing his spaghetti rather aggressively.

"Thank you." I tell her, grinning as I drink my soda.

Four keeps squinting at the kitchen counter, and finally he turns his stare back towards Eric. "Are all the leaders' apartments this big?"

Eric shrugs, swallowing his food with more force than necessary. "No clue."

Tris catches my eye and we try not to giggle.

"So, your class is going well?" I ask Four, trying to further the conversation.

Four nods in agreement. "They've all come pretty far. This first round of cuts will be the hardest, but it'll motivate some of them that are just sliding by."

Eric is watching Four out of the corner of his eye. I can tell he wants to say something, badly. The muscle in his jaw twitches, but he doesn't say anything. He takes another forkful of spaghetti and goes back to observing Four.

"Is it hard to cut them? Do you ever feel bad about it?" I ask him, genuinely curious.

"Sometimes," Four answers carefully.

I can see Eric smirking, and I kick him under the table. He shoots me a dirty look. "Of course the Stiff feels bad about cutting the initiates."

Four smiles tightly. "I feel bad that they won't get to live in their chosen faction. Obviously, we don't want them to fail. It's hard not to get attached to some of them, or to pick ones in whom we see potential. We only want them to succeed."

"Oh, you mean like Stella?" Eric asks, feigning innocence. I glare at him; I know his words are anything but.

"Eric," I hiss.

Four exhales in exasperation. "Oh, you mean like how you married the one initiate you had to train?"

"Four!" Tris elbows him.

"I figured you were doing her. What made you finally figure out she was too young for you? Did she ask you to read her a bedtime story?" Eric asks him, his eyes lit up. I inwardly groan. This dinner is suddenly going the exact opposite of the way I'd hoped.

"For your information, Stella is nearly the same age as your wife. Did you forget about that?" Four snaps. Tris stares at me with wide eyes, and I stay very still.

"That's different," Eric informs him, setting his fork down. He looks furious now, ready to pummel Four into the ground.

"How is that different?" Four crosses his arms in front of his chest and he glances over at Tris, annoyance flashing across his face. "This was a terrible idea by the way."

"No, it wasn't. You two just need to stop," Tris announces. She glares at the two of them. "You both share a common goal here. You need each other to take Evelyn down, and you both want the city to be safe. So stop acting like eight year olds and eat your dinner."

I wait for Eric to snap. I can see him thinking quickly, his mind working over what's happened. I wait for him to stand up and shove his chair back while he orders them out of his apartment. But he simply sits there, stewing silently before he turns to me.

I look at him and nod very slightly, reaching for his hand. My fingers find his and I watch him put off Four's death for another day.

"Fine."

 

 

An hour later, Eric and Four are still at the table, poring over some map of the city, and neither of them are bleeding. For now.

"It's going well," I whisper to Tris, and she laughs loudly. The two of them turn their heads towards us, but their attention is quickly refocused back on their battle plans.

We finish washing the dishes; I've scrubbed them all clean and Tris has helped dry them. It's nice to have her here. Eric normally does a lot of the cleaning, or everything gets put in the dishwasher. He got a reprieve tonight. Four had offered to help him map out the area they needed, and Eric had snappily agreed. After their little spat, the two of them were a forced sort of civil, probably because there were no sharp objects within reach.

Bits and pieces of their conversation worked their way over to us.

While Eric thought it would be safer if Evelyn weren't alive, Four seemed to think it would be more fitting to have her memory wiped clean, and then to leave her to fend for herself outside the fence.

"Even if there is something out there, she won't remember enough to be of any advantage if someone were to find her." Four had a valid argument. I wasn't sure he was good with the idea of murdering his own mother, no matter how shitty she'd been to him. And while Eric wouldn't be opposed to taking out anyone that got in his way, he seemed to have developed a smidgen of respect towards Four's feelings on the matter. Not that he would dare let Four know that.

Right now he's frowning, his stare on the map. "What if the serum doesn't work? What if she winds up remembering who she is? She could potentially become a threat again. Or are you too scared to let Mommy really have it?"

Four shrugs and sighs in annoyance. "I guess there's no guarantee it will work properly. And she does deserve what's coming to her."

Eric nods and reclines back in his chair, raising his eyebrow. "We could keep her here. Or we could put her on trial in Candor. They'd find her guilty without question. Though, she'd probably be sentenced to execution." He sounds gleeful at that idea.

Four doesn't say anything for a long time. "Let me think about it." He glances over to where Tris and I are standing. We're putting the plates away, trying to pretend we aren't listening.

"It's not that difficult of a decision. Your mother is out there, with enough of her hack serums to wipe out the population's memory. What's there to think about?" Eric snaps at him.

Four shrugs again.

Eric follows Four's gaze, then throws us a suspicious look. He leans his head in towards Four, and he speaks so quietly that I can't hear. They talk amongst themselves for a long time, and Tris and I both try to be as silent as possible. It's useless.

"What is he saying?" I whisper to Tris. She shakes her head, just as stumped as I am. They continue their secret conversation long past the time Tris and I have made hot chocolate and settled against the couch.

It's not too much longer before Eric looks satisfied and Four looks disturbed, and I can't help but feel rather accomplished.

 

 

The feeling only continues when Eric comes to bed. I'm already beneath his dark sheets, lazily propped up with my head in a book. I'd finished the first book Eric had given me, and I'd just started the second one. I liked them. They felt familiar to me, as though I knew the story by heart.

"Enjoying your book?" Eric asks, and his voice sounds pleasantly low and warm.

I glance over the top of it to see that's he's already taken his shirt off, and he's kicking his pants aside as I speak.

"I love them." I tell him. "Are there more?"

He smiles, a sort of half-smirking grin. "A few more." He takes a step towards the end of the bed until it hits his knees. "I think you only read the first four."

"How many are there?" I ask him. I've turned my attention back to the book, and I feel the bed dip under his weight. It takes a second for me to realize what he's doing; I feel him make his way closer to me, and suddenly the book is yanked out of my hands.

"Seven. Eight. I don't know."

My chest constricts suddenly. Eric is hovering above me, the bare skin of his muscles warm where it touches my own skin. He places a knee on each side of me and he leans inwards, bending his head down until his cheek grazes mine.

"So pretty." He says the words roughly. All I can focus on is the rough scrape of his stubble against my cheek, and the intoxicating smell of his aftershave.

"Um." My brain explodes with all sorts of things. Images of Eric hovering above while his teeth nipped at my neck, vivid scenes of him shoving his hips against my own, burying himself inside of me while calling out my name. One particularly clear image of him gazing up at me, his icy eyes locked on mine as I rode him, a hot feeling of bliss burning inside of me.

I can't think anymore. He works his way along my jaw, his lips pressing against my own as he shifts his weight until he's fully covering me. Eric is heavy; solid muscle beneath hot skin, his thighs pleasantly pressing against mine.

I try to move beneath him, attempting to raise my legs up to lock around his, but I'm pinned beneath him. He kisses me again, biting at my lip for a moment, before he pushes himself up again, and he slips his hand between us.

I don't realize what he's doing until he yanks my nightgown up, and his fingers graze my ribs, continuing upwards.

"You ready to remember, Amity?"

 

 

 

 

Max's POV from scenes during The Training

 

Her dress is pink.

Really pink.

She's standing next to Four, her fingers smoothing over the bright fabric of her sundress, and she's looking at me with a nervous hopefulness. Her eyes land on mine for a second, large and wide, before they take in the mess on my desk. For one slight moment, I regret not cleaning up before I left yesterday. There are piles of papers strewn about; pre-initiation paperwork that will stay stuck in these same piles long past the due date, order requests from at least two factions, a list of demands from the cafeteria staff, and my coffee from three days ago.

The girl shifts slightly, her stare back on me.

Her name is Everly, and today I watched her jump.

I know exactly who she is.

The minute she chose Dauntless, her name was sent to me. It was added to the long list that I needed to go over. While the task was often passed off to one of the lower ranking office members, I'd agreed to go through it to make sure everything checked out. No surprise initiates, no one over or under the choosing age, and no one that was here by a forced hand.

Everly's decision was definitely her own. And while it was surprising, it wasn't completely unheard of. Amity typically stayed in Amity, and at their most adventurous, they chose Candor. But I can tell she's braver than that. My eyes rake over her quickly, trying to make a snap judgement about just what to do with her.

She's pretty, and little, and I understand Four's hesitation to have her in his class. I even understand his very obvious attempt give her a fair shot here. He knows full well that if he keeps her in his class, trying to claw her way through the all-male testosterone-fueled frenzy, she won't stand a chance. Not only because they largely outnumber her, but because it's also dangerous. All it would take is for one of them to be overcome by some sort of sudden lonely urge, and she'd be pinned to the mattress or up against the wall, and I'd be explaining to Candor —and Jeanine — just why we had an issue of sexual assault mixed with murder on our hands.

Word could get out that Dauntless isn't safe. Our numbers could dwindle. I can already feel the headache beginning to burn behind my eyes at the thought, trying to explain to Jeanine why I can't supply her any men at a moment's notice.

I sigh, finding myself half-listening to Four.

He's talking endlessly, droning on about fairness and duty and the right thing to do.

Sometimes he just tries too hard. I don't doubt he's noticed that she's pretty, and I don't doubt he sees it as in his best interest to help her survive. He was the same way with Tris. He'd tried his best to hide his burgeoning desire to keep her in Dauntless. But at least Tris had the advantage of having other females in her class, others to help ground her after her training days were over. Everly will have no one.

He seems to be finishing up, so I nod at him, trying to pretend I've been listening this entire time. I pause for a long moment before I speak, knowing full well he won't like what I'm about to say.

"Eric could train her. Keep her separate from both groups. It would be the only fair thing to do," I state, leaning back in my chair. I stare at the coffee cups in front of me, trying to figure out which one I brought in with me this morning.

Four's face falls the way I thought it would. He looks slightly displeased now. His eyebrows knit inward, and his mouth turns down. "You think that's the best solution? I was thinking maybe Lauren could help her…"

I wave my hand to motion for him to stop and Four quiets down. I've already mentally run through my options. If she stays in Four's class, chances are she'll be attacked long before she has a chance to prove her worth. If I place her in Lauren's class, I'm practically signing her dismissal now. The Dauntless-born are a different breed. They have an unfair advantage simply by being in their own element during training. Not to mention the fact that most of them have been raised for this sort of environment.

That only leaves one choice.

"It needs to be impartial," I remind him.

"Eric is hardly impartial," Four retorts quietly. I watch as he paces back and forth for a minute, and I know he's not going to let this go easily. "Having her train with Eric might be worse than leaving her to possibly be murdered in her sleep."

I try hard to keep my face neutral. Eric might not be anyone's first choice of trainer, but I can't argue that he can produce results.

I turn my stare back to the girl and she smiles sweetly, unware of who we are even talking about.

"How do you feel about that, Everly?" I ask her, putting her on the spot. It's unfair of me, but I use it to my advantage.

I watch as she shrugs her shoulders. She's much smaller-looking up close, and her dress only makes her look younger. Her hair is long and dark, her skin is prettily sun-kissed, and she couldn't look more like she just walked out of Amity if she tried.

"Is it…uh fair…if I'm trained alone? Wouldn't that be unfair? To have my own trainer?" She looks slightly hesitant, almost nervous as though she isn't sure whose side she should be on. It could be advantageous for whoever trains her. I can tell she'll be loyal to them, and only them. No wonder Four wants to keep her around him. She'll probably hang on his every word, giving him the utmost reassurance of his training skills.

My gaze snaps up when Four opens his mouth.

"Eric is hardly fair." Four's voice is flat and his fists clench tightly, and I can tell he's forcing himself to seem less invested than he already is. But he's right, though. Eric is the furthest thing from fair. I wonder if part of Four's reluctance is because he knows that if Eric goes along with this, he'll do everything in his power, by any means at his disposal, to make sure his initiate is the best.

I shake my head at him. "He'll be fair. In fact, he'll probably really enjoy helping you out again." I say the last part without thinking. For a moment Four's face goes stony. I'm well aware of his past with Eric, and their rivalry was not a quiet one. I throw a smile towards Everly. She's still patiently standing there, trying to keep her attention on me. "She might wind up better than some of the initiates in your class."

Four lets out a sigh before he throws his hands up in the air, palms facing me. "Whatever you think. However, if she turns up dead from exhaustion in a few days, this is all on you."

I give Four a dirty look. I'm not about to willingly send Everly off to her death. He'll do that himself if he has her stay in his class. "I'll make sure she stays alive. In fact, I'll take her to Eric myself." I let my eyes fall back to her. Her hands are pulling at the bright fabric, smoothing down invisible wrinkles. She stares up at me, and for a moment I wonder if Eric might actually enjoy training her. She's not what he typically goes for when he chooses his 'preferred' Dauntless members, but she'll be a challenge for him.

Four finally nods at Everly, and he looks terribly nervous.

"Good luck, Everly."

 

 

Four heads out with a reluctant goodbye. I want to remind him he's only known her half a day, and most of it has been spent with the entire training class. He throws her one final look, his eyes lingering a moment too long, filled with worry. I resist the urge to shoo him away, and instead I focus on the map I've yanked out from a file on my desk.

She'll need somewhere to stay, somewhere tucked away out of sight.

Leaving her to sleep with the initiates is a risky move, even if they know she's being trained under someone else. Eric is intimidating, but these young men don't know him. In a few days, they'll be focused only on their own survival. Their level of aggression will be elevated not only by the training, but by the threat of becoming factionless. Everly would be nothing more than one tiny warm body for them to destroy in their quest to stay here.

Four's right; she won't make it through more than a few nights with them.

My eyes scan the compound layout, focusing on the lower level apartments. They are mostly full, and the unoccupied units are highlighted for renovation. They'll be ready by the time the initiates are done, but that doesn't help me now. I flip the page over and my eyes land on the floor where most of the leaders reside.

There is one spare apartment that is marked as vacant.

Putting her up in one of these is not high on my list of choices. Our newest Leader-in-Training hasn't even been assigned one, and more than likely this apartment has been set aside for him. I glance at the date on the map and frown. It's dated back a few months, and I can't even be sure it's the most current map we have.

I make up my mind quickly. Everly is standing beside the desk, her stare on the walls. There is a large silver plaque with the Dauntless manifesto, and she's reading it intently.

I pick up the key to an old apartment and I shove it into my pocket.

It doesn't unlock any current doors, but she doesn't know that.

"Alright, I think we're ready. Welcome to Dauntless, Everly." I rise up from my desk and smile at her, taking note of the way her whole face beams.

Eric's gonna have a field day with this one.

 

 

Arlene is smirking, her glass of wine still more than half full.

"You know her form had his last name on it, don't you?" She takes the smallest sip ever and I shake my head. Arlene has never been a big drinker, especially when she practically lives on call at the infirmary. I swear she never sleeps either.

"I saw. He said he wasn't paying attention when he filled it out," I tell her, taking a bite of steak. She's made dinner, and I can't appreciate it enough. I'd spent the entire morning fielding emails from Jeanine, questioning her precious Eric's actions. Her demands hadn't stopped even after I'd informed her of what he was doing. She didn't like when he was busy. She always deemed her work much more pressing, and his training Everly was nothing more than an inconvenient thorn in her plans.

Arlene snorts. On anyone else it would unladylike, but Arlene isn't like anyone else. I've known her since they day she arrived in Dauntless, sent fresh out of Erudite to train our medical team. Her sharp blue blouse had been matched by her sharp gaze, and she'd nearly chewed my head off at the disarray of the infirmary.

I couldn't have enjoyed her more.

"Why is Coulter so into this one? She's hardly the typical blonde idiot he normally lets grace his presence." She stares at me intently, and I know she's as curious as ever. To her, Everly is on the same level of interest as some sort of infectious disease Arlene could study and dissect before categorizing it.

I shrug. "He does seem rather possessive of her."

Possessive wasn't a strong enough word to describe Eric's attitude towards his trainee. I'd kept my word to Four that I'd make sure Everly stayed alive, and I'd found myself watching more of Eric's training class than I'd ever thought I would. Despite feeling slightly voyeuristic, I'd found him rather interesting to observe.

At first he kept his distance from her, intimidating the poor girl from afar. It didn't take long for him to realize she'd let him touch her. He then preferred to use his whole body as his main training tool. I watched his fingers linger on her side long after he'd positioned her, and I'd watched him lean in closely, his mouth near her ear, his chest against her back. More often than not, she was sort of pinned against him while he taught her to be lethal.

Most of their training was done alone. He'd kept her separated from Four's class, and at first I'd thought it was to keep his methods away from their prying eyes. But the longer the training went on, the closer the two of them seemed. She smiled at him quite often, her cheeks flushed from their intense workouts, and her eyes beaming when he showed the tiniest speck of approval. She only had Eric in her life now; he was all she had to fall back on, and it was only intensified by the fact that she was staying in his apartment. But it didn't seem to matter to her. Not only did she seem thrilled with her training, she was truly excelling at it.

Arlene had picked up on almost everything. She'd questioned me about their living status the same day she'd done Everly's physical. It was hard to ignore the fact that Eric's trainee was listed with the same last name as his and shared an apartment with him.

I'd deflected the question the same way I had when Four had brought it up. I'd focused more on my annoyance that he'd interrupted my afternoon coffee and muffin break.

"She seems almost fond of him," Arlene announces as she cuts into her asparagus. "And he's unexpectedly tolerant of her."

I wasn't the only one who had picked up on Eric's surprising attitude towards her. I had assumed he would have thought of her as a challenge, and at first he had. He'd begun her training aggressively, working her tirelessly. I'd watched her drop quite a bit of the softness from her frame, and some days she looked like she could curl up on the floor and fall asleep without a second thought.

Then, it turned into something different. He'd slowed their pace, making sure she mastered everything he asked of her. I couldn't quite pinpoint the shift in their training, either. It seemed like one day they were sparring relentlessly, Eric nearly pummeling her into the mat, and the next day his whole face was doggedly scanning the cafeteria until his eyes landed on her. He then ate lunch with her, his bulky frame dwarfing hers, while their knees touched.

He still scowled while they ate, his eyes intensely fixed to make sure she ate enough, but they never left her. I'd wondered if she knew how much he looked at her.

"I think he's got a bit of a crush on her."

My words make Arlene grin. They sound especially ridiculous when you consider the subject; Eric Coulter is the last man anyone would expect to have a crush on any girl, especially this cheerful little thing from Amity. Yet there's something humanizing about it. I have no doubt Eric hates the very feelings that are running through him. The unfamiliar stirrings in his chest hardly fit into his plans, especially those pressed upon him by Jeanine.

"Damn it." Arlene frowns at her phone. There's a text from Molly on it, and Arlene purses her lips. "Another moron fell off the railing again. I told Jeremy he needed to fix that. Or at least put up a sign to steer clear for now."

"Jeremy isn't the maintenance man," I remind her. I can feel the disappointment welling up as she fusses for a moment, and I know it'll be mere minutes before she leaves. Arlene is nothing if not dedicated to her job, and as Chief of Staff she has little choice but to be.

"He's certainly not doing much else," she tells me, cocking an eyebrow at me. I resist making a witty comeback. I rarely work with Jeremy, so I can't say much.

Arlene leaves shortly after, her dinner wrapped up to take with her and her wine glass still mostly full.

I stare at it for a long moment before I dump it out.

 

 

"Just sign here, sir."

Rylan is in front of me, his face impatient. He's thrust a paper at me and shoved a pen into my hands.

"What is this?" I barely have time to look at it. Rylan is so antsy he's almost twitching, and he looks like he could turn and bolt at any moment. "A marriage license? Who are you marrying?"

Rylan grins, his whole face lighting up. "It's not for me. It's for a friend."

"Of course it is," I answer. I tiredly sign my name on the bottom of it, along with the census paperwork beneath it. "Congratulations," I tell him, reclining back in the large leather office chair. Arlene had gifted it to me a few months ago. She'd informed me that it would be much better for my back than the ancient one I'd inherited along with this office.

"I'll pass it on," he announces over his shoulder. I watch as Rylan takes the papers and half-salutes me. I narrow my eyes at him and he all but sprints from the office.

 

 

"You're okay with this? That he married her?" Lauren's eyes are flashing with disbelief. She's standing with her hands on her hips, her dark leather jacket tightly zipped up. "It's rather unfair. Even if Everly fails her initiation, she won't have to leave, because she's now married to one our leaders." She emphasizes the word 'married' as though I've gone deaf.

"Yes, I'm aware of it."

I don't have much to say in Eric's defense, nor is it necessary. While Eric's actions were usually questionable at best, marrying his initiate was the first thing he'd ever done that I had no qualms about.

Lauren looks livid. "That's against the rules."

"We don't actually have any rules about marriage in this faction," I remind her. I'm running low on patience today, and Lauren needs to watch it. She's not the first person to march in here concerned about Eric's marriage.

The news had made its way around a very small pool of people: the census bureau, who changed their recorded living and marital status; the people in the housing administration; a few of the other leaders; and the even the lady who ran the dessert bar.

I'd found myself slightly relieved to discover that the marriage license had been for Eric. His actions towards Everly made sense now; he was a far braver man for admitting his feelings for her and actually convincing her to marry him. I try to picture him getting down on one knee and asking her to spend the rest of her life with him.

I stop, my coffee cup halfway to my mouth and my eyes fly open as something dawns on me. I can't picture it, not at all. Because…

"I heard his little wife didn't know she was married to him." Lauren's tone is triumphant, and for a second I can do nothing but stare at her. "I mean, why would anyone marry Eric?" She grimaces.

I stare at her, my brain whirling.

Rylan, shoving a marriage certificate at me. Hurrying me to sign it. His aversion to answering any further questions. Me, signing it without even glancing at the names on it, because I was too busy to focus on it. I can put it all together only now.

Eric didn't ask her.

He just…married her.

On one hand, it's ambitious. You can't fault Eric for going after what he wants. While I can barely imagine what his reasoning was for this, I know that if I ask him, his answer will be well thought out. A trickle of fear runs up my spine when I think he might be doing it to keep her away from Jeanine, and I try to shove that thought away.

"You look weird," Lauren says, hands back on her hips.

I narrow my eyes as I drink the bitter liquid. "Leave him alone. It's his business and not yours. And her name is on the marriage certificate and I doubt he held her at gunpoint and forced her to sign it."

Lauren lets out a huff of exasperation. "Fine. But I'm going to ask him about it the next time I see him."

She storms out of the office, slamming the door shut behind her. I pick up the phone on my desk, slowly punching in the numbers for the only person who will find this as interesting as me.

 

 

I call them into my office.

I've been watching them less and less lately, mostly because I know she's safe now.

Eric rarely leaves her side. They walk together in the hallways, their hands brushing against each other and their fingers occasionally intertwining with each other's. He towers over her, his large, muscled frame always close to her smaller one. She smiles up at him often, her whole face happy and her body always angled towards him.

They both watch each other a sickening amount. I've never seen Eric really look at anyone the way he looks at her. Sometimes I catch a funny look in his eyes: a sort of uneasiness behind them, as though he could lose her at any moment. As though she might slip away, realizing just who he is.

Sometimes, in these moments, he looks like a different man. Not like the Eric that's held the barrel of his gun to someone's temple, barking at them to spill whatever information he wanted. Not like the Eric who worked tirelessly to please a woman who would never be happy no matter what he did for her. And not like the man who kept everyone away from him, using his ill temper and his pure strength to keep them out.

He looks happy; absurdly and smugly happy.

Except for right now. Before me, Eric is silent. He cocks his head to the side for a moment before standing abruptly and ending the meeting on his own terms. "Is there anything else you need before we go?" He's not pleased to share his wife with the other leaders and the thought of her training with someone else has caused his jaw to tense.

I shake my head. "Not off the top of my head. I'll email both of you the list of changes I've made, along with a copy of when they need to be done by. Enjoy your next week off, Everly."

They both stand, her eyes finding Eric.

I flash them a wide, genuine smile.

"Oh, and congratulations on the marriage."


	32. Again, please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing uber cool to write in here, other than a huge thank you to everyone for all your kind words, comments, and thoughts. We've almost come full circle with their relationship and I adore everyone who's read along this far :)
> 
>  
> 
> And yes! There are more outtakes to come. I'll probably just add them onto the end of the chapters because I'm lazy and I don't want to make a new story just for them on here.

Everything is burning hot.

The skin of Eric's naked stomach is pressed against mine, warm and heavy as he pushes himself closer. I'm pinned beneath him, almost all of his weight holding me in place as he works his mouth over my throat.

"You ready to remember, Amity?"

All I can think of are his words and the promise they hold.

Our entire relationship, stored somewhere in my mind, ready to reappear. The idea is so wonderfully delicious and I can only try to say yes, my hands reaching for his back. I can feel the muscles tightening beneath his skin, and my hands work their way up to his neck until they reach his soft hair. He stills for a moment, and I celebrate my victory.

It's a very short-lived victory.

"Sorry, you'll have to wait another week." He pushes himself away from me, and my skin is almost immediately cold at the loss of contact.

"What?" I gasp out indignantly, shoving myself into a sitting position. "Why did you stop?"

Too many emotions are running through me. Confusion, disappointment, and mostly irritation. Eric is staring at me with a smug look on his face, and he reclines back until he's resting on his heels. I watch the way his face seems to light up suddenly.

"Oh, you don't like being teased like that?" He leers at me, and if he weren't so handsome I might punch him.

"No," I answer him, my voice sounding testy. "I don't." My hands dig into the dark sheets and I feel hotly annoyed.

"Then stop your little games. No more coming to bed half-dressed. Go back to wearing my shirts," he snaps and I jerk my gaze up to his eyes. He looks serious now. "You spent your whole training doing the same thing. Do I need to remind you of the time I woke up to your hands down my boxers?"

I swallow as a warm flush crosses my cheeks.

I don't remember, and I feel so fiercely furious that I can't. I try to avoid dropping my gaze to his boxers while I pull my nightgown back in place. I've won, sort of. He's obviously bothered by my state of undress, but not the kind of bothered that I was hoping for.

"I know what you want." He narrows his eyes at me. "I'm not touching you until you can either remember everything, or we conclude that you won't ever remember."

"That's hardly fair. I didn't stop you," I fume at him. I cross my arms in front of my chest. "I'm married to you. And it could be forever until either of those things happens."

"And?" he snaps. "There's a lot you aren't remembering."

"Who cares?" I explode. "I've been patient enough. Were you like this before?"

Eric stares at me as though I'm yelling at him in a language he's never heard of. "I have excellent self-control. You, obviously, do not."

I ignore his little jab at me and huff back at him, "Fine. We'll see who has more self-control."

Eric smirks. "Good."

"At the very least you could kiss me goodnight," I tell him, well aware that my words are the exact opposite of my declaration of self-control.

It doesn't matter. The next thing I know he's back on top of me, his lips pressed against mine. I relish in the feeling of his mouth against mine, until he pulls back far too soon. He breaks apart with surprising force and my eyes open wide to his gleeful expression.

"See," he tells me, staring down at me triumphantly. "Trust me, if I had my way, we wouldn't be waiting. But you've made some decisions that I'd prefer you remember before this goes any further."

He goes quiet for a moment and I sigh, all the excitement slipping out of me. "Fine." I guess that's rather fair, and I don't want to screw up our relationship before I can even remember all of it.

I settle back against the pillows and exhale sharply. "I guess I'll just go to bed then."

Eric smirks. "Don't get too comfortable. It's time for us to head out for your favorite training exercise."

"And what is that?" I ask him, my voice suddenly wary. Of course I can't remember what my favorite training exercise was, but judging from Eric's expression, it's something that I'm not about to enjoy.

"War Games."

 

 

I'm dressed and ready to go, and despite Eric's teasing tone, I feel excited for the War Games. I don't remember my turn at it; so it feels exhilarating to be dressed in all black, Eric's dark hoodie shoved over my shirt and leggings, as we wait for the train. Eric seems mildly impatient as the class mills around, sleepily mumbling their theories about where we are going.

"Where are we going?" I try to whisper to Eric. He's standing beside me, close enough that his arm is against mine, and his jacket is half-zipped up. He looks rather fierce in the dark light, and he grins as he raises up an eyebrow.

"It's a secret, Amity."

I scowl at him, but it's light-hearted.

"How much longer?" Eric turns to Four, nearly shoving into him.

Four gives him a dirty look and glances down at the watch on his wrist. "It should be here any minute. You ever gonna bother learning the train schedule? I figured you'd know it by now."

Eric sneers at him, and despite their touching moment after dinner, they are back to normal now. "I have more important things to worry about." He doesn't see Four roll his eyes because the train arrives suddenly. It comes out of nowhere, despite the loud roar that signals its approach. Four sprints easily, running and jumping onto the small platform. He throws the door open, and everyone moves at once.

The initiates are quick and they all hurriedly rush, impatient or fearful of missing the train. Eric and I hang back for a moment, and he jerks me back a few feet.

"Now."

I take off after him. He'll forever be faster than me, simply because his stride is much longer. He reaches out his hand and I take it, and he pulls me up with him. The feeling is exciting. I don't remember ever jumping on or off a train, but now that I have, I feel like I could do anything. I take a careful step away from the door, keeping my hand in Eric's.

We join the rest of the car and I glance around quickly.

It's crowded, but I can make out Four standing beside Jeremy. The class is mixed together, everyone squished into the long car, and the number of initiates seems rather large. The train begins to turn left and Four starts to speak. I listen as he explains the game and lists a few of the very minimal rules. Short of not shooting your opponent in the face, there aren't many.

"You can pick first," Eric tells him. He sounds excited, as though he's not about to lead a war against Four's own mother in a few days.

"Alright." Four scans the car very quickly before his stare falls on me. "Everly."

"Try again," Eric snaps and I try not to laugh. I'm not sure if I'm joining the initiates or if I'm supposed to stay with Eric, but Four's choice strikes me as funny.

"You said I can pick first. Who knows, this time maybe you won't cheat," Four throws out, sounding rather cavalier.

"Did you cheat last time?" I ask Eric, staring up at him curiously. I wish I could remember how the last game went. Eric grins widely as he shakes his head.

"I didn't have to. You willingly handed the flag over to me. But it's alright. Go join the Stiff and we'll see who wins this time." Eric is now glaring at Four, but he doesn't sound terribly mad. In fact, he sounds rather smug. I feel his hand brush mine as I walk by him to go join Four, and he simply stares when I take my place next to Four.

"This time, don't give him the flag, okay? No matter what he says." Four says the words very quietly, and I nod, stifling my giggle. He throws me a serious look and I try to steel my face. Apparently, I am not very good at this game.

I listen as Eric calls out someone else's name, and before long everyone is split up into their teams. Jeremy has rather sulkily gone to stand next to Eric's team, and he stands out like a sore thumb. The rest of his group is buzzing, happy to be standing beside Eric. I get the impression that they think it is some sort of honor to be chosen by him.

Four's team seems equally excited. None of them have stopped talking, trying to come up with some sort of plan despite the fact that no one really knows what's going on. It seems like it's only a few more minutes before the train starts to slow and Four heads towards the door.

"Everybody get ready!" he yells. It's only a matter of seconds before everyone rushes towards the doors, and I find myself shoved into some kid that's at least a foot and a half taller than me. He jumps with a practiced ease. Before I can move to jump, I feel a hand grasp my arm, and I'm unsurprised to find Eric behind me.

"Good luck, Amity. I'll see you real soon." His lips graze my ear and I grin as I quickly leap off the train. I manage to land on my feet, and Four is patiently waiting when I steady myself.

"This way!" he calls out. The team follows after him obediently. I'm not sure where we are, and I glance around quickly. The night is pitch black, and the air is chillier out here, as though we are near water. We come to a halt, and I stand beside Four. He silently motions us onward.

We stomp through what feels like damp land, and I stumble a bit as my boots seem to trip over tangles of weeds and rocks. The chatter has died down, and a few of the initiates have gone silent.

"Alright, listen up," Four calls out over his shoulder. We keep marching forward until we draw near a row of buildings, where I spy a few things I've never seen before. "Pay attention to your surroundings. You're going to need to remember where we are and what's around us." We press onwards, the pier now rather close.

"I would have loved to ride that Ferris Wheel." Someone behind me throws that out, and I stare at the large wheel. It looks a little rickety, lots of crumbling cars and ancient arms. I try to imagine riding in one, placing my life in the small basket.

Four grimaces.

"You wouldn't have loved to ride that?" I ask him. I've made my way next to him, trying to keep up. He has a lighter walk than Eric, but he's just as quick. He shakes his head with a vengeance.

"I'd rather do almost anything but," he answers quietly.

We stop at the edge of the pier and I glance around. I can make out what look like rundown carnival rides, and a slew of small buildings that must have been some type of stores or places to eat. They are all darkened and rather rotten, and I try not to shiver.

"We only have a few minutes. We need to come up with a plan, and fast. More than likely Eric's team has already hidden their flag, and they'll be on the hunt for ours."

All around me there are people coming up with terrible suggestions. I scrunch up my face, trying not to appear unimpressed. I may not remember anything about this game, or everything about Eric, but I am certain he's much smarter than these guys are giving him credit for.

"I'll take the flag," I tell him.

Four turns his head to me in surprise, and he looks unconvinced. "I don't know about that. Last time you had it you seriously handed it right over to him. While I got shot."

I try to keep a straight face.

"Eric won't think I have it again. He wouldn't expect that."

I can see Four thinking about it for a long moment before he nods. His team murmurs in agreement, and the next thing I know, there's a piece of fabric being shoved into my hands.

 

 

If I couldn't remember why I didn't like the War Games before, I certainly do remember now.

It's boring.

I'm sitting beside Four, listening to the sounds of the guns firing into the dark. The air is even colder here, and I shove my hands into the pockets of Eric's hoodie.

"Are we almost done?" I've grown rather impatient in our hiding spot and my butt is numb. "I seriously can't feel my feet." Despite the heavy boots and the socks, I'm still cold. Unfortunately for me, Four shakes his head.

"Not until someone finds one of the flags."

I groan, and force myself to stand up. The blood rushes down my legs in a painful manner, and I try hard not to swear at Four.

"Everly. Get down," he hisses, but I ignore him.

"I'll be right back," I tell him. I make my way out of the store we've been sitting in. It's a good hiding spot: the building is dark and the section we're sitting in is narrow. Four has chosen his team well. They've mostly hidden themselves throughout this area, and I don't see anyone in the near proximity.

I make my way along the pier, ignoring the quiet yelps of Four ordering me to come back. I know he picked me to be on his team to get back at Eric, but I can't help but wish I was on Eric's team. At least I'd be doing something right now. I keep walking until I come across the carousel, and I stop and stare.

The thing is much larger up close, and it's slightly creepy. Dark, cracked horses dot the circular platform, and smeared dusty mirrors line the upper part of the carousel. I step onto the platform and it lets out a groan, the rotten wood creaking under my boots. I let my fingers graze over a few of the horses as I walk by.

When I find the large white horse I stop, staring at it. I wonder what it would be like to ride one of these. Not a real horse, for I've ridden enough back in Amity. But to ride on this carousel, before everything happened. Would I still have found Eric if there had been no war? Would he and I have met on this pier, lazily walking up and down and eating presumably terrible food?

I put one of my boots on the small step near the bottom of the horse and I push myself up. I stand for a moment, swaying as the horse shifts unsteadily before I sit down on it, my feet facing outwards. It's not very high at all, in fact it's one of the lowest horses on the ride, but it feels higher. I try to ignore the cold saddle beneath me, and I stare out at the night sky.

There are still shots being fired, and lots of shrieks and giggles, but now it all seems closer. It's a bit of a relief. That means the game will be over soon, and I can go home and curl back up underneath Eric's warm blankets. I kick aimlessly at the horse, wishing that moment would occur now.

I almost fall off the horse. There's a hand that grasps my arm from behind, and I let out a small yell when it pulls me backwards. I'm then pressed up against someone's warm chest, and when I feel someone press their lips to my neck, I don't have to guess who it is.

"It's really good to see you again."

Eric says the words and I try not to giggle. He's got his mouth somewhere beneath my ear, my hair shoved to the side. I didn't bother to put it up before we left, but it doesn't matter now.

"Hi, Eric." I try to reach for him, my arm struggling at the odd angle, and it sort of works. I can feel his hair, and he grins against me.

"Hand over the flag, Amity." Eric says the words slowly, his mouth finally off my neck. I shake my head and lean into him, hoping he doesn't move and I don't fall off this damned horse.

"I don't have it," I tell him.

He huffs in disbelief, and one of his hands comes to sneak around my waist, holding me against him. "Now, why don't I believe you?" he drawls. He kisses my cheek for a second before breaking away. I steady myself by reaching for the horse's head and Eric walks around me.

He comes to a stop in front of me, still taller than me even while I'm seated on the ride. He looks down at me, one eyebrow cocked at me, and the piercings above it seem to glint in the pale moonlight. The edge of my boots touches his legs and he leans in close.

"I know you have it." He's looking down at me with a shit-eating grin, and his eyes look even icier now. "So hand it over, and you and I can go home." He says the words with heavy intent, knowing just what to say to make me want this to be over. "You can sleep in my bed," he tells me, his tone now teasing.

"I already sleep in your bed," I point out. "And if I had the flag, that wouldn't be enough to make me hand it over." I try to ignore the spark that flickers behind his eyes. He grins and bends closer, his hands coming to reach around my waist. He's seconds away from yanking me off the horse when he speaks again.

"Hand over the flag, Everly, and I'll make it worth your while." His mouth finds mine, and his lips are cold. I reach one hand up into his hair, pulling his head closer to mine.

"How?" I mumble. In the faint distance I can hear the yelling coming closer, a mix of shrieks of pain and triumph. Eric's hands slide up my waist, and he stills for one second.

"I'll take your nightgown off, and I guess you'll find out." He brushes his nose against mine, freezing skin against my own. I give into him, leaning my body in and kissing him feverishly until I hear someone yell my name.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, EVERLY!"

Four has the worst timing of anyone I have ever met. He's sprinting towards the carousel with a look of utter determination, his gun drawn at Eric. "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Before he has a chance to shoot Eric, a risky move at best, Eric's team ambushes him. They appear out of nowhere, hulking ninjas in black who shoot him with the lethal precision Four has taught them. I hear him groan in pain as several of them land shots in his leg, and he stumbles for a second.

"Everly, GO!" He's still yelling and I turn to Eric with wide eyes.

"He seems mad." I look up at him and Eric lets out a bark of laughter.

"He should be. He just lost. Thanks, Amity." He takes a step back from me, and thrusts his hand into the air. My eyes widen when I realize he's got the fabric in his hand and he's waving it triumphantly.

Eric's team lets out a whoop of celebration, happy shrieks and laughter as they step over Four and come to celebrate near where I'm sitting. I can only watch, a terrible feeling of déjà vu washing over me.

I have a feeling this is the exact same way he won last time.

 

 

Eric is a smug winner, and Four looks rather despondent by the time we arrive back in Dauntless.

"Sorry, Four." I try to sound apologetic. It's my fault that, for the second time in a row, he's lost the War Games. Well, I could try to pin it on Eric, but I get the feeling it doesn't matter.

"It's alright." Four rubs at the back of his neck for a minute before he shoots a look at Eric. "I'll see you around."

Eric smirks at him, then at me all the way back to the apartment, where he mostly definitely does not take my nightgown off. In fact, he's sound asleep before I can even put one on.

 

 

He says my name over and over, his face gazing up at me in adoration.

All before he shoves me away, his face contorting into something resembling disgust.

"You aren't her," he hisses. I tumble off his lap, shoved backwards into a pool of dark sheets, and I seem to fall through the bed, continuing to fall endlessly until my eyes open.

My heart is beating rapidly, rushing blood through my veins much faster than I'd prefer in this moment. It was all a dream, nothing more than a maddeningly, frustratingly unfair dream. My whole body feels wired; sparking electrical currents running through it as my brain tries to ignite something.

I close my eyes.

Eric's behind me, his large form pressed up against me, pulling me back into his stomach. One of his arms is slung over my waist, pinning me in place. His leg is heavy and hot, his calf over mine. He's breathing deeply, for once unaware of the fact that I'm not asleep.

My eyes start to burn, so I scrunch them closed. While I know the images in my brain are not real, they feel sharply real, as though his words and actions are both proven memories. I can still feel him beneath me, his bare skin against mine and his words cold. I could almost feel the frustration as he pulled away, almost as though I'd lived it before.

I managed to free one arm from his hold, and I push it over my eyes. I try to slow my heartbeat, reminding myself that it won't be long before all of this is over. I'll remember him, I'll remember my life, and I'll remember every detail without question.

Eric shifts behind me, his arm tightening around me and his head moving until I can feel his nose in my hair.

"What's wrong?" His voice is low and warm, gravelly with sleep. I stay silent, and my arm moves until it covers his own. I search for his fingers, mine twisting into his as though I can anchor myself to him. Given the option, I'd like to melt myself into him. Dissolve against him, seeping into his warm self until I'm safe from the world and my own traitorous mind.

"I just….I had this dream and …I don't… I don't know." I hold onto him even tighter, and it's only a second before he yanks me until I'm almost beneath him.

"What was your dream?"

I can't see him, but it feels easier this way. Not that Eric has given me any reason to fear him, but there's always a chance that he'll grow tired of my lack of recollection. "I just miss you. And I miss remembering us."

My words are bordering on a tearful confession and I inwardly curse myself for them. I don't want Eric to find me weak or irritating. I should be able to handle this with a sense of bravery, but I can feel myself growing less and less tolerant of it.

I feel Eric sigh, and I half expect him to have some cynical response or to brush it off. I know he's growing weary of my constant questioning, but I can't help it.

"I miss us, too."

He says the words clearly, despite his face being mostly in my hair. I feel him tighten his fingers around mine, and something inside my chest unclenches the tiniest bit.

 

 

He goes to leave in the morning, and I find myself still in his bed, my nightgown slipping off one shoulder and my fingers pulling at his comforter. Eric stops at the edge of the dresser, his stare settling on me and his lips pulling into a tight line.

It's only a second before he tilts his head at me, and I can tell he's formulating some sort of plan.

"Are you not getting up?" He sounds casual, almost indifferent, as though I normally spend my days in his bed while he's away at work.

"I don't know what I should be doing," I tell him, my stare falling to his dark comforter. It's true; I don't have a single thing planned, and I can't even begin to think of something I could do around here. Clean his already spotless apartment? Organize his already organized files in his office? Bring him coffee and donuts and hang around him like some clingy wife who needs attention?

I look up at him and I find his grey eyes. "Do you have to go to work today?"

I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind.

"No."

He takes a step towards the bed. I like his outfit today. He's dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a dark button down plaid shirt. It's mostly black and dark grey, but it's something different than I've seen him wear since I've been here. I push the comforter back and rise up on my knees until I'm more on his level. His stare falls to mine, and his eyes seem entertained.

"Teach me how to fight."

He smirks, and I know he'll stay home now.

 

 

"Harder. You're gonna have to hit me harder than that." Eric's words are contemptuous, and he raises an eyebrow. "Tired already, Amity?"

I'd learned a few things about fighting with Eric.

First was that the training class was terrified of him, and watching him prepare to fight made Four's class lose their minds. I'd watched them back away from us, equal parts horrified and intrigued, then slowly creep their stares back towards him. He stalked around the ring like some sort of predator, his stare fixed on me. A few of them grimaced, perhaps wondering if he was assisting with Four's class today.

He was even more intimidating like this. On the mat Eric was in his element. His fitted shirt did little to hide the heavy muscles in his arms, and he towered over me, the threat of my imminent pummeling lingering in the air.

"Are you afraid?" He says the words, and I try hard to remember how I had fought against him before. I can imagine small fragments of our time together; floating up from somewhere is the image of me landing a punch on him, then him falling forward until he landed on top of me, pinning me beneath him.

I shake my head no, and I grin at him. He doesn't look overly impressed at the moment, but his whole face lights up when I manage to punch him in the jaw.

"Oh, are you ready for some real fighting now?" Despite the fact that I've managed to hit him in the face, it hasn't slowed him down one bit. He doesn't wait for my response, he simply moves towards me much faster than I'd think he could, and the next thing I know my head is against the mat and he's holding me in place with his hips.

"I win." He announces joyfully, and I can't help but laugh at him. He looks smug even as he throws a nasty look at one of the few students gaping at us. "You next?" He snarls the words and the kid shakes his head furiously. He scampers off before Eric can threaten him again.

Eric rises up and reaches a hand out towards me. I take it easily, and he pulls me up until I'm on my feet.

"Again." He grins.

An hour later I can't feel my arms but I've managed to hit Eric a few more times. I follow after him as we make our way off the mat, and he slips his arm firmly around my waist until I'm close enough against him that there is nothing between us.

 

 

I see Four later in the day.

He looks distracted, his eyes roaming over the Pit until they land on someone.

It's not until I slip by him with my cupcake in hand that I notice he's looking at Tris.

 

 

I'm just about to put my pajamas on when Eric bursts through the door.

It's nowhere close to a time I would normally go to bed, in fact it's barely late afternoon, but Eric had mentioned he'd be in a meeting until late and the lure of lounging around in his t-shirt is much more appealing than sitting around in my own clothes. I'm just about to pull out one of his shirts when he appears, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"I have a dinner in Erudite tonight. Do you want to come?" He stops in front of me, his stare fixed on me. He doesn't look overly thrilled at the idea, and I try to not feel insulted.

"Do you want me to go?" I can't tell if he doesn't want me to come with him, or if the dinner is work-related, or if maybe he just hates going to Erudite.

Eric waits a beat before he answers with a long exhale. "I do want you to come. I just want to make sure that you want to go."

I stare at him for a moment, wondering if he's always this vague. "Of course I want to go eat dinner with you. Are we meeting someone from Erudite? Is Max going?"

Eric shakes his head and steps around me. I watch him fling open the closet doors, and he's rifling through the clothing on my side. I put my hands on my hips and wonder what's gotten into him.

"Eric, are you alright?"

He stops and flings a dark dress at me.

"We're meeting my parents at six."


	33. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy Enjoy Enjoy! 
> 
> I'm off to finish my holiday shopping, so wish me luck!

Everything in the restaurant is some shade of blue, silver, or white.

It almost hurts my eyes; it's all so blindingly clean and my dark dress feels much too casual for the luxurious décor. It does little to dim my enthusiasm, though. Eric had looked wary of the way I'd grinned when we arrived. I couldn't even explain why it was so important that I go to dinner with Eric, or even more important that I meet his parents. But it would be fantastic insight into Eric, and anything I could learn about him would be fascinating.

Unfortunately for me, the dinner went downhill from the minute I saw them waiting for us.

We aren't late, not even close, but I get the feeling that Eric's family is overly punctual. His mother is frowning when we make our way towards them, her eyes raking over the two of us. Eric looks indifferent to her stare, but my stomach drops slightly.

She doesn't look overly pleased, but she pastes a smile on her face when her eyes fall back to Eric.

It only seems to become more awkward as we sit down. Judging from his mother's repeated looks, I'm hardly what she expected for her daughter-in-law. I briefly wonder if it's my outfit. The dress Eric had grabbed from my closet was nothing that offensive; in fact, it was mildly conservative. The length came down to my knees and the gauzy black fabric was rather pretty. Despite the fact that it had wide straps over the shoulders, I still had a dressy black sweater over it. His mother keeps glancing at it as though I've shown up in my pajamas.

"Hello." I smile brightly, trying to start off on the right foot.

It works for a moment. Someone drops off a basket of fancy-looking bread and butter. It's not until we've all reached for a dinner roll that things quiet down.

Eric's parents stare at me as though I am a foreign species. His mother cocks her head at me, taking a rather long drink from her wine glass, and she watches me with the same icy stare that Eric wore the first time I met him. They have similar eyes, and it almost makes me cringe to realize he makes the same face when he dislikes something.

"So you grew up in Amity?" she asks, all forced politeness. She sets the glass down.

She's pretty; she's got the same blonde hair that he does, cut to her jaw and blown out to perfection. Her royal blue dress is so stiff I wonder how she can sit in it, but it's sharply tailored and expensive-looking. There is a rather large wedding ring on her finger, and a fancy watch sits on her wrist.

She's sort of terrifying, more so because there's nothing motherly about her. I try to imagine hugging her and I can't.

His father is slightly less intimidating. He's tall and handsome; his grey hair is combed neatly to the side and his eyes sparkle behind the thick black frames on his face. He smiles at me as he butters another dinner roll, and I try to smile back.

"I did. Until I chose Dauntless." The words sound stupid, young and wistful, as they come out of my mouth. His mother's face pinches together as though she agrees with my silent thoughts.

"Well, how…ambitious," she states flatly. She glances at Eric, frustration flashing briefly across her pretty features. "And now you're married to Eric." Her stare falls to the ring on my finger and I can feel Eric steel himself beside me.

"Yes, I am."

Maybe I should have stayed home.

Of course I'd wanted to go along with Eric. I want to spend all of my free time with him, and meeting his parents seemed like a really good idea. I thought maybe it would be helpful in some way; maybe I'd find myself forming a great connection with them and things would fall into place and I'd remember everything all before dinner was over.

Instead, I found myself starting to feel a bit anxious.

On the drive over, Eric had told me a few things about them. He didn't seem overly fond of either one; both had spent more of their time working than they did with him, as they held rather esteemed positions. His mother is the Chief of Staff at the Center for Psychological Services in the heart of Erudite. She'd spent a lot of his life psychoanalyzing him, and I can only assume it's why he now never wants to tell anyone anything.

His father is one of the leading neurosurgeons in the city. He recently found a way to perform a new type of brain surgery, reducing the recovery time by half. When I'd mentioned it was rather impressive, Eric had agreed and snarled that it would have been more impressive had he been there when Eric was ranked the top student in his school. Or if he had made it to a single important event in his childhood.

Neither of them was like anyone I'd ever known. My own father had worked in the fields, and my mother had spent every ounce of her free time with us.

"It's nice to meet you, Everly. Eric's never brought any of his girlfriends to dinner with us." His father grins at me and I shift in my seat. I don't know anything about any other girlfriends. I throw a look at Eric, but he's busy staring at the steak knife beside his plate with great interest.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm glad I could come."

The conversation falters, and I can feel both of their stares on me now.

"What kind of schooling does one receive in Amity?" his mother starts before she is sharply interrupted by Eric.

"Blythe." Eric says her name in a warning tone, the word tight-sounding. "Don't."

I find it weird that he calls her by her first name, but I guess it makes some kind of sense to me that he would: it only serves to further the disconnect between them.

Eric's father smiles and pats her arm. "She doesn't mean any harm, Eric. She's just being nosey."

Eric's mother flashes me a fake smile, one that tells me that no matter what my answer might be, it won't be impressive enough. "It's alright, dear. I'm sure there are lots of other things about you that Eric enjoys. It doesn't matter your level of education."

"Excuse me?" I say the words before I mean to, but my mouth has fallen open in surprise. "I completed everything I was supposed to." I try not to look at Eric; I don't want them to think I need him to leap to my defense.

His mother makes a sort of huffing sound.

I can feel Eric tense up even further, and he's clenching his jaw so hard I'm surprised it hasn't snapped in half. We've only been here about a half an hour now, and I can tell it's been a half hour too long for him. I watch Eric's father widen his eyes the slightest bit. He clears his throat for a second.

"You know, we would have liked to have attended the wedding. It's not every day our only son gets married." He says the words lightly and I know he's trying to change the subject.

"It was a very small event." Eric narrows his eyes and he leans back in his chair. "We didn't want a lot of people there."

"Your mother and I are hardly a lot of people," Eric's father points out.

Eric stays quiet, and I can feel the panic rising up inside of me. When I had woken up in Amity, I had known something was off right away. Despite waking up next to the man that I'd dated for years, I knew there was something more that I was missing. I have that same feeling now; even though I can't remember much of Eric's relationship with them, I get the feeling that there is an underlying issue that no one is bringing up.

"How long have you and Eric been involved?" Eric's mother turns her attention back to me, and I can't help but feel the weight of her words. "You seem awfully young." She's looking at me critically now, her eyes inspecting my face very intensely. "I was told you were in the last training class."

"I was. I was in Eric's class." I answer her honestly, knowing that much. I feel uncomfortable now, as though she's attempting to dig something up, but I can't figure out what. "He was a really good trainer."

I don't really remember him training me, but I don't know if she knows that. I wonder if she knows I can't remember the last year of my life.

"So you're eighteen, then?"

Her husband elbows her, but she turns her stare back to Eric. "Blythe," Eric's father tries again, regaining her attention and throwing her a stern look. "Pass me the pepper."

She wordlessly hands it to him, not bothering to notice he's only eating a dinner roll.

"My son put a lot on the line for you." She holds my gaze and I feel something sharp in my lungs. "You must be very important for him to choose you over his own family."

"Stop," Eric snaps, and I can feel the annoyance radiating off of him.

"Blythe," Eric's father barks her name, and I realize he and Eric have the same mannerisms when they've had enough. "This is not the time." His eyes have darkened, and he's pressing his lips into a fine line.

"It'll never be the time, now will it?" she snaps back. She looks livid as her eyes flash at her husband.

The waitress brings our food and I'm grateful for the interruption. The plates are large and filled with rather extravagant portions. My steak seems as big as an entire half of a cow, and I wonder how much I'm expected to eat. She refills my glass of wine that I've barely touched, and she's gone without so much as a word.

"Well, enjoy," Eric's father announces.

"Have you ever had steak before?" His mother is watching me stare at my food, and I blink in surprise.

"Um, yes. I have." I'm slightly taken aback; I'm not sure if she's implying that I'm a vegetarian, or if perhaps someone from Amity would not typically be lucky enough to enjoy such a meal. "It looks very good," I tell her, trying to sound sincere despite her very apparent dislike of me.

The food does look good, just rather overwhelming. I like it much better when Eric cooks dinner.

I watch as Eric cuts into his steak with a vengeance, his motions filled with annoyance.

"You don't find the act of eating meat to be a violent act? Most of the subjects from Amity have a rather strong aversion to the slaughter of their animals for dinner. They find it rather…" She pauses and her eyes land on me. "Savage. Perhaps that's why you chose Dauntless? Because you prefer things a little more unrestrained?" she throws out. She takes a neat bite of her steak and I try to keep my mouth shut.

"Are you kidding me?" Eric snarls. He sets his knife down forcefully. "What are you trying to get out of her? Is there an actual question you'd like to ask, or are you just going to make snide remarks the entire dinner?"

His father's expression changes to disappointment, and I can't tell if it's at Eric's outburst, or Eric's mother's commentary. I try to keep my spine straight, not willing to slump down under her harsh stare. I make an attempt to cut into my steak, but I have no appetite now.

She makes a face as though Eric is ridiculous. "Don't be rude, Eric," she tells him, waving her fork at him. "I'm just surprised that your little girlfriend eats meat. That's all."

"She's my wife," he says through gritted teeth. "Not my girlfriend."

I raise my eyes from my plate and his father meets my stare. He looks slightly apologetic, but he keeps his mouth shut. I wonder just how many things he's kept silent on.

"I'm well aware of how important your wife is to you. She's led you to make some interesting decisions as of late." She says the words with a hint of bitterness and Eric throws the napkin off of his lap.

"We're done here," he informs her. "Everly, come on."

He stands up, drawing himself to his full height and he glares at his mother, something full of hatred. "I know why you're doing this. If you thought for one second that I was going to let your sister replace my wife with one of her assistants while I was out doing her dirty work, then you might as well be the next one to fill her shoes."

His mother's eyes widen and mine must be as wide as saucers at this point. "Why on Earth would I want that position? So you can come after me? That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

"You're exactly like her," he tells her, his voice taking on a cold tone. "You'll leave Everly and me alone."

I stare for a second before I also stand up, realizing Eric has had enough of this dinner. I can't help the way my heart sinks into my stomach as his father meets my eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says, very quietly. "She's still not over the death of…"

"She was your aunt," his mother says pointedly, and her words are very calculated, as though she intends to wound him. It takes me a very long minute to realize that she's talking about Jeanine. "You would have been nothing without her. She gave you everything."

"Not everything," Eric retorts. His eyes fall to mine, and I watch him try to control himself. His chest seems tight, as though he's forcing himself to breath slowly. "Thank you for dinner," he says the words cynically, and his hand reaches for mine. I throw one final look at the table, and his mother's stare mirrors the one of fury that Eric wears. His father is looking back at me, as though he hopes I will protest and ask to stay and finish my dinner.

I leave with Eric, his grip on my hand so tight it's painful.

 

 

The ride back to Dauntless is silent.

Eric stares ahead, his hands clenched into fists and his spine so straight that it must hurt. I can almost feel the rage radiating off of him. I have no doubt that if I were to press my hands to his neck he'd be hot to the touch.

I lean into him, my head resting against his chest until he sighs, but he doesn't relax a fraction of an inch.

 

 

His room is dimly lit, and he throws his jacket with violent abandon. It's unlike him; it lands somewhere on the spotless floor, but he doesn't make any move to pick it up. He undoes the first button on his shirt before he turns to me.

"I'm sorry you had to meet them. I thought it would go better than that." He swallows, and his gaze falls to the floor. "I should have told you she was my aunt. And it's not that you can't remember. I never told you before."

"I don't think it would have made any difference if I had known who she was," I tell him, trying to keep my words even. My brain is reeling from the dinner. I wasn't quite expecting such a brusque reaction from his mother, nor the outburst from her. Even if my parents had not approved of Eric, they would never have made it so well known, especially not to his face.

"My mother shares the same narcissistic ideals that Jeanine did. I'm shocked she hasn't put in her own name as a candidate for their new leader."

He takes a step towards me, kicking off his dress shoes as he walks closer. "Her sister was found guilty by trial, and I was the one that performed the execution. Because of what she was doing, and what she planned on doing. I have no regret for my actions." He stares into my eyes and I nod, my gaze still on his.

"Eric, I know. I mean, you told me and I… I don't think you did anything wrong..." I look up at him, his eyes dark and his lips frowning. "You said she's the same as Evelyn."

Eric looks defeated now, his stare falling to the side before he flashes his stare back at me. I can tell he's uncomfortable as he stands there. I smile at him, wishing I could do something to make him feel better. His face suddenly changes, his eyes darkening when I unbutton the dark sweater I'd worn.

"I'm sorry dinner didn't go very well. Maybe I should have stayed here." I tell him. I try to decide what I should change into for bed, but Eric interrupts my thoughts.

"It doesn't matter. Faction before blood, remember?" He's looking at me, serious as ever. The words are familiar, and I can't remember if he's uttered them to me or if I'm remembering them from back in Amity. "You're the only family I need."

My cheeks grown warm at his words, and I look up at him, his towering form close to me.

"Tell me you remember," he says urgently. He's right in front of me now, his body nearly touching mine. "Tell me that you remember everything that's happened and I don't have to wait any longer to have you back."

He looks like the same Eric that came to get me in Amity, only this time there is an obvious desperation peeking out from behind his stare.

"Eric, I wish I could…" I trail off as I reach for him. I've long since kicked my shoes off, and I rise up on my toes as I reach my arms around his neck. "I wish I remembered." My lips find his and his eyes close. One of his arms slides behind my back, keeping me against him. "I can try," I tell him, mumbling the words as my mouth moves to his jaw. I kiss the warm skin there, moving down the side, kissing the dark blocks on his neck. I can feel his reaction to my every move; his breathing is coming in sharp, uneven exhales and he's tilted his head to the side.

I let go of him, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

I undo them, one by one, and find I'm right: his skin is hot, heated internally by some sort of pent up rage.

"I want you to remember now." He says the words as his eyes find mine, and I push the dark dress shirt off his shoulders.

I nod at him, not saying anything as I reach for the hem of the dark undershirt. The fabric is soft beneath my fingers, warm from his skin. He lets me slide it up, past the defined muscles of his stomach, and up over his head.

"I can try," I tell him, staring into his grey eyes. I can see the turmoil in them; flashes of emotion that aren't normally there.

As soon as I say the words, it's like everything speeds up. The next thing I know my dark dress is on the floor and the backs of my knees bump against the edge of the bed. His belt and pants follow, leaving his pale skin with nothing but the dark boxers I'd watched him put on this morning. I scoot myself back until I'm somewhere near where I normally sleep, mostly on his side of the bed, and he hovers over me for the barest of seconds.

"Everly."

He says my name and it's familiar sounding, but not just because it's my name. There's something behind it, something in the way he says it.

He kisses my neck, finding the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He works his way down in a painfully slow manner, dragging his mouth down to my collarbone, across to the other side, as his hands find my skin. I can feel him graze my ribs, and his fingers work their way up, bone by bone until he skims the skin on my side.

"Eric." His name is mostly a quiet whisper. His mouth finds my lips, kissing me slowly, and one of his free hands slides beneath me, working quickly to release the hooks.

The straps to my lacy bra are next. He yanks it sort of carefully, but mostly impatiently. I sit halfway up, allowing him to pull off the fanciest bra I've ever owned, and before long his bare chest is pressed against mine. I swallow when he moves back over me; despite the fact that I've spent every night curled around him, mostly bare limbs tangled with his, this feeling is something different.

The awareness only heightens when his fingers continue their exploration, sliding over my breast until his whole hand covers me. He keeps kissing me, his lips deliciously full and soft, while he presses his hips into mine.

"Please don't stop," I gasp, sounding like some fumbling teenager. All eloquence is lost as he smirks against my lips.

"I should," he mutters. "But I don't want to."

It seems to be an achingly long time before he moves again, but this time I'm the one holding him in place. I slide up my leg to lock behind his calf, and my hands find his hair. I like the way it feels beneath my fingers, and I work them up to the longest parts of it. I can feel the way he moves his head back towards my fingers and he pulls apart for a moment.

His eyes finds mine, warm and dark.

"Is this what you want? Are you sure?" He has one hand on my side, long fingers digging into the skin. I nod at him, smiling up at his serious expression.

"I've always wanted you, Eric."

There's so much more behind my words, and he seems to understand. He represents everything I could have ever wanted in Dauntless, all the excitement and danger, the risks I was willing to take and the trials I was willing to go through. I catch small glimpses of my life in Dauntless, all too brief flashes of him and me together.

I don't need to remember everything to remember how I feel about him.

He nods at me, then pulls back, and I reluctantly unhook my legs from behind him. I get ready to ask him why he's stopping, what more does he need, when he locks eyes with me.

My protest dies in my throat when he reaches for his boxers. He slides them down easily, the silky fabric joining the pile of clothes on his floor, and he keeps his eyes on mine as his fingers tug at the waistband of the fancy underwear I'd picked out.

"Good." It's the last thing I hear him say before he starts his assault on my skin. I can feel his teeth scrape against the skin on my neck, biting down until I let out a small squeak beneath him. He works lazily, his mouth and fingers grazing over my skin as though he's well-versed in it. He moves his way down my stomach, his nose trailing as I giggle beneath him.

"Eric!" I can feel the smile on his lips at the sound of his name, and one of his hands grips my hip.

"Stop squirming," he commands. Eric's mouth moves lower, until he's kissing the inside of one of my thighs, pushing them further apart until he's happy. I try to keep still; I try to focus over the nerves and impatience that run through me. I can remember my times with Landon, but they pale in comparison to the hot feeling of want that I have for Eric. I'll take anything from him right now. I just want him closer to me, as though my body knows what it's been missing.

One of my hands tangles in the sheets and the other finds his hair. I thread my fingers through the longer strands, and I almost lose my grip when I feel his mouth on me. I don't ever remember this with Landon, and if this is how it feels to be with Eric, then I'm more than desperate to remember my times with him.

He holds my legs in place, and he licks very slowly, torturously, leisurely, and I can't help the incoherent garble of words that I string together. Eric is well-practiced at what he's doing; he is in no hurry, and I try to catch a glimpse of him.

The mere sight of his head between my legs is enough to make me dizzy.

He keeps working until I lose track of time, sucking gently until my vision blurs. I can feel my thighs press inwards, realizing I am very close to coming against his face. He slows his pace and I whine when he moves away, moving to kiss the inside of my thigh. The friction is far less than I'd like, and I squirm uselessly beneath him.

"Eric that's not fair," I groan.

He grins in delight and he rises up on his knees. "What about me has ever been fair?" He quirks his eyebrow at me and I grin up at him.

"Come here." I reach for him, and he moves back up to me. "I want to be on top."

Eric's eyes narrow and he looks amused. "Of course you do."

I find myself laughing, pulling myself out from beneath him despite the unrelenting ache between my legs. He sits back against the pillows and I rest on my knees, taking in the sight of him. Since arriving back in Dauntless, I've seen him half-dressed plenty of times. More than half-undressed. But to see him sitting here like this, his eyes dark and his erection against his thigh, all because of me, is almost too much.

I make my way towards him, and I decide I want to try something. I remember his words about how he woke with my hands down his boxers, and I can only imagine what my course of action would have been had he not stopped me. Eric leans back slightly, waiting for me to climb into his lap, but I just smile at him and rest on my knees.

I reach for him, enjoying the way his eyes widen when my fingers come in contact with his bare skin.

He's soft and smooth, his cock pulsing as my hand tightens around it. I watch his eyes darken, and I can hear the sharp inhale when I bend forward to take him in my mouth. I've never done this before, and I will myself not to ruin it by gagging and throwing up on him. He's much larger than I'd expected, and while there's no way I can fit all of him in my mouth, he doesn't seem to mind.

"Uh, Everly...?" He says my name, but it's more of a strangled gasp. I use one hand to stroke him, blindly hoping it feels good, and the other hand to steady myself as I suck the length of him. For a few minutes there is nothing but the sound of my mouth on him, and the increasingly urgent groans of my name. His hips jerk forward a few times, and one of his hands has come to rest in my hair. I feel his fingers dig into my scalp, tangling into my hair, but he never shoves my head or yanks me forward. He simply holds on, until his pace becomes erratic.

"Holy shit...Everly, you need to stop or…" He's frantically trying to tell me to stop, but he doesn't need to. His thighs are tense and one of his hands is holding onto the sheets so tightly his knuckles are white. "I want you," he finally groans out, and it's then that I let him slide out of my mouth.

He makes a small noise of protest, but I'm fixated on something else.

"Did that hurt? That had to hurt to pierce that there."

"What?" Eric looks confused and slightly out of it. It takes him a second to realize I'm staring at his piercing, and he lets out a loud laugh. "I see you're still just as curious as you were before you saw it last time."

I try to not focus on the mention of my outward obsession with what was down Eric's pants, and I move to crawl onto his lap. I reach for his head, my fingers finding his jaw and I stare right into his eyes.

"Eric?" I ask him, making sure he's looking right at me.

"Hm?" He's looking at me, but I can tell he's terribly distracted. One of his hands is tangled in my hair, and one has slid down my back to shove me closer to him.

"It hurt, didn't it?" I'm only half-teasing him. Part of me really wants to know why on Earth someone would choose to shove a needle through one of the most sensitive parts of their body, and the other part of me is ready for us to move on.

Eric raises an eyebrow at me, the matching silver moving towards his hair. "No, it didn't.

I don't believe him, but it doesn't matter. I can feel him beneath me, the hardness of him pressed between my legs and I lose my fascination with his piercing. I bend forward to kiss him, my mouth attacking his, and I move my hips forward in search of some relief.

It comes the minute I feel him slide inside of me.

Eric's whole body tenses; his head lolls back, exposing the skin of his throat, and his grip on my hair becomes painfully tight.

"Ohhhh, Eric," I say his name, but just barely. The feeling of us together is more than I could ever hope for. He feels wonderfully good, his hips working to push himself into me and I can barely think. It's only a matter of seconds before he roughly moves us, and I'm shoved back onto the mattress.

"Oh, God." It's all he says as he thrusts into me, one hand holding onto my hair, and the other roaming over every inch of my skin. "I've missed you," he hisses in my ear and I nod against him. I move to wrap my legs around him, wanting him as close as possible.

Everything is hot now, not just because Eric is pressed up against me and I'm clinging onto him for dear life. I feel like my skin could catch fire, like I could combust beneath him, happily reunited with him in this way.

He rests his cheek against mine, the barest hint of stubble scraping against my skin, and he clenches his eyes shut. I can tell this isn't how he normally operates, that this whole kidnapping and memory loss mess and terrible meeting with the in-laws has reduced him to the rawest of emotions that he doesn't want to deal with. This evening only stripped everything away further, proving that he's placed me much higher in his life than I could have ever imagined.

I focus back on him, the way it feels to have his weight atop of me, the way his legs seem endless, the way I don't mind one bit that I couldn't move if I tried. I focus on the way he sounds, sort of primal and raw, the small grunts of my name that only I am privileged to hear.

Everything grows warmer; he feels good, deliriously good, and I swear I could burst beneath him.

Then he stops.

He pulls back, pushing himself upright, his biceps tight as he holds himself over me. He's still inside of me, but his eyes are wide with something that I haven't seen on him before.

Alarm.

"We have to stop."

I shake my head at him. He looks concerned now, his eyebrows knitting inwards and his grey eyes remorseful.

"No, Eric you said you wouldn't…" I try to pull him back closer to me, desperate for him to resume what he was doing before. It halfway works. His mouth finds mine and he thrusts further into me before groaning into my neck.

"You don't understand." He says the words between biting at my skin and I tighten my legs around him. It seems to spur him on, until he raises his stare back to mine. "You told Arlene you didn't want any more shots." I can tell he's trying to stay still, but it's not working all that well. He's failing miserably right now.

"So?" I squirm beneath him and he closes his eyes. "I don't want any more vaccines. I just want everything to be back to normal."

"I know," he grunts. "But you also refused your birth control shot, and we need to stop unless you'd like to be having a baby in the next year."

"Oh." I bite the side of my lip. He's still not really stopping, despite his words, and I know that I'm certainly not the one stopping him. I like him like this, too close and heavy over me, deep inside me, our limbs together. I want him like this forever, and I don't want to wait another week or two weeks or even months before he decides it's alright. "I don't want you to stop." I'm waiting for Eric to say he doesn't want a baby, to say that he wants to wait, but he's mostly deflecting the situation to me.

"Everly." He says my name through gritted teeth now. "Trust me, I'm aware of how much you enjoy this. It's not that. It's just that this is not a decision I want to be responsible for when your memory comes back."

"Did I want a baby before?" I ask him, and he seems to struggle to not roll his eyes. "Is that a yes? Does it even matter? It probably wouldn't even happen right now, and I'm not waiting until I get kidnapped again or I fall off the bed again or Four interrupts us, or something else happens for you to decide you've waited long enough. I'm good with whatever happens."

Eric has a weird look on his face now, but he nods. "Okay," he says, quiet and low. It only takes him one heartbeat to shove himself closer, using one of his hands to move my thigh further to the side. "Okay." His mouth finds mine again, and the next thing I know his full weight is atop of me and I part my lips for him.

It's not long before I say his name over and over, reaching for him, nails digging into his skin. I don't want this to end, but I'm stuck on the edge of something white hot, and I'm powerless to stop it. He kisses me just the tiniest bit harder, and before everything seems to burst, I see a flood of images flash in my mind like some slow motion movie.

I can see myself in Dauntless, standing before Eric in a pink dress while he glared at me; eating dinner on his couch; running alongside him, endlessly looping the city; the way his lips grazed my ear as I threw knives at a target; chocolate cake on a large plate; waking up to find myself in his bed and realizing I preferred to be the only one in his class; the way he'd baited me with permission to sleep in his bed; his eyes closing as I stroked his hair; my fingers tracing over the tattoos on his skin; my fingers skimming the waistband of his boxers while he slept next to me; the first time he slammed me back into his bed, his mouth finding mine as he thrust inside of me; every single night, tangled together hotly; Max announcing he'd been shot; the way he held my hand while we walked down the hallways; the way he stayed with me when my father died; and the way he'd told me that he loved me.

I gasp suddenly, unable to breathe. All of the air in my lungs has been sucked out and for a moment I can't do anything but flounder under the weight of my own mind.

He says it again now, and it sounds just like the Eric I've known since the first day I came to Dauntless, when I stood before him with Max, terrified that I wouldn't be given the chance to stay here. The same man that gave me a chance, that invited me into his life, beyond just inviting me into his bed. The only man that I'd ever felt this way about.

"Everly," he gasps, his body starting to tighten up completely, his mouth on my neck as his hips seem to work on their own, letting him work through his release. He says the next words without thinking; I can tell they are blurted out from deep inside of him, as though he's been waiting a long time for this.

"I love you."

It's all I hear before my whole world blurs and I close my eyes.

 

 

He's gone when I awaken, but I'm not surprised.

It's later than I'd planned on sleeping, but I feel good, as though I've slept for days and I've finally caught up on some much-needed rest. I sit up suddenly, pushing the tangled hair out of my eyes.

I can remember.

I can remember everything. Every tiny detail of my life, down to the moment I first laid eyes on Eric. My heart skips a beat suddenly, clenching in my chest at the thought of him. All I can think of is our night together, the way he finally relented after the horrific dinner with his parents. I scowl when I think of them. I'm not afraid of his mother's unfriendly dislike of me, I feel more for the fact that he spent eighteen years of his life with them.

I climb out of bed and glance around, trying to decide what I should do. I'm half-tempted to find my phone and call Max, announcing gleefully that I can remember and that I want my position with Eric back. Really, Eric should be the first to know, but Max might know where he is.

I throw my hair up in a bun and dress quickly. My closet looks exactly the same as I left it. I throw on a tank top and a skirt, and I let my fingers graze over Eric's dark shirts before I shut the door.

I make my way to the kitchen, wistfully hoping Eric might still be there, but it's empty. There's a neatly written note on the counter and I pick it up, smiling at Eric's perfect handwriting.

_Everly,_

_I'll be working on a project until late this afternoon._

_Do not leave Dauntless for any reason. I've already told everyone you're to stay here, so don't bother trying anything._

_I'll make dinner._

_Eric  
_

I scrunch up my nose at his note, wondering just what he's doing and why it's so important I stay here. It's not like it was my decision the last time I left Dauntless.

There's a knock on the front door, and I make my way to answer it, hoping it's someone with some answers.

 

 

Tris sits across from me at the large dining room table. I've thrown open all of the curtains in the living room and opened the windows. It's bright and sunny, and the whole apartment feels alive. I've made her coffee and she's brought donuts, and for this moment, everything is right in the world.

"So you remember everything?" she asks, and she's smiling widely. She looks relaxed; her eyes are pretty and clear and she seems to have this permanent grin on her face. "Eric must be majorly relieved."

I take a sip of my coffee, never more grateful for the girl across from me. I've subconsciously missed her friendship more than I could ever tell her, and it feels so good to sit here with her. "Everything. It's like the last month never even happened." I pause and I try not to look guilty. "I don't think Eric knows yet."

"What?" Tris nearly chokes on her coffee and she stares at me. "What do you mean he doesn't know?"

I shake my head at her. "We, uh, well, we were kind of busy last night, and he was gone when I woke up this morning. I didn't remember everything until right before I fell asleep."

"Busy?" Tris suddenly reminds me of Four. She looks both amused and embarrassed. "Busy doing…" She trails off, her stare falling on the donuts.

"Well, him, I guess."

"Everly!" Tris giggles and I pretend to count the sprinkles on my donut.

"By the way, how are things with you and Four? The last time I saw him he was staring at you from across the Pit." I try to sound innocent, but I can't contain the knowing smile spreading across my face.

Tris's whole face goes red and she bites down on her lip. She doesn't meet my eyes, and something hits me.

I tilt my head at her. "He was with you last night, wasn't he?"

She nods, and I dare say she looks rather pleased. "I've missed him," she replies pensively. She pulls apart the pieces of her chocolate donut and then shoves them back together. "He's a little different. A little more willing to let me get closer to him." She smiles up at me. "I think watching Eric sulk around Dauntless when he thought you were gone for good pushed Four to be a little more open."

I smile at her and she laughs.

"Don't tell Eric that," she warns. "Four would kill me."

"Promise," I tell her.

I finish my donut and stop for a second. "Where's Four? Is he with Eric?"

Tris shrugs and shakes her head. "Your guess is as good as mine. He was gone before I woke up this morning."

I try to push down the pinprick of worry that's starting in my stomach. Eric almost always kisses me goodbye, and it's just the tiniest bit convenient that he and Four are both gone at the same time.

I almost drop my coffee as a horrible thought crosses my mind. I stare at Tris, my eyes wide.

"They went after Evelyn."


	34. Gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Happy Holla Days! I hope you guys have a fantastic next few days. This took a minute, and I can't thank you all enough for your patience. Enjoy :) 
> 
> The Bonus Outtake is from Four. I swear he's mostly normal in it (ha!) but I'll make sure to skip down far enough at the end of this chapter to post it.

I don't bother to change.

Tris and I rush to the control room and she slides her card through the scanner, missing completely on her first attempt. "We have to find someone who saw them leave. Either Rylan or Jason or Jeremy," she tells me. I know Jeremy is our last choice, most likely since he and Tris didn't end on very friendly terms. Asking him for help finding Eric and Four probably wouldn't go over well. I nod at Tris, and I hope we find one of Eric's friends working right now.

We're in luck.

I spy Rylan reclined back in one of the office chairs, his feet propped up on the counter in front of him. He's supposed to be watching a row of monitors that are switching between several screens, but I can see that he's watching a patched-in feed of some movie.

"Rylan!" I call out, rushing past the row of people working. A few shoot me dirty looks at the interruption, but I ignore them. "We need your help!"

Rylan turns his head towards us, and he grins when he sees Tris and I approaching him. He kicks his feet down and swivels around to face us. "Everly, Tris. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Where's Eric?" I ask, coming to an abrupt halt behind him. "I need to find him."

Rylan throws me a look of faux innocence. "He's probably in a meeting. I haven't seen him today."

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him, trying to come off as intimidating. "I know he's not in any meeting. And I think you know where he is." I keep my tone serious, and Rylan looks like he's having a hard time keeping his mouth shut.

"I wish I could help, but I seriously haven't seen him." He's staring at me with this innocent expression that wouldn't fool anyone. "I wouldn't worry. Eric's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"Where is he?" I ask him, trying not to grit my teeth. Tris shoots me a look of exasperation and her gaze flicks to the monitors. On the main one, there's an oversized lizard knocking over buildings, and on the ones next to it, there are images of a narrow opening between two run-down buildings.

"Why are you watching sections three and seven? Neither of those are on your roster for this time." Tris narrows her eyes suspiciously, and Rylan looks defensive.

"I'm working on something," he says. He moves to click his mouse over an icon and Tris stops him.

"You're working on watching two typically very low priority areas?" She quirks an eyebrow at him and then her face freezes. "Four."

"No, section four is considered moderately active. It borders between Candor and Erudite and while sometimes there's activity where the train merges.."

"No. Not the section. Four. I just saw him." Tris interrupts him and she shoves his hand out of the way. I watch her click a few icons before the screen enlarges. It zooms in on a dark area, and my eyes grow large at the sight of Four making his way past a row of buildings. I feel a little better when I spot the squad behind him, the heavily-armed Dauntless members making their way after him.

Rylan frowns at us. "Routine maintenance, ladies. Nothing to worry about here." He tries to click his mouse again, but Tris bats his hand away. She bends over, typing something quickly and before long another screen changes.

"There." She points as it zooms out, panning to a wide shot of a crumbling building. "Oh. Is that the middle of the city?"

She takes a step back and turns to me, her hand coming to her mouth. Four is walking towards the doorway, and there's a man half-propped up in the frame, his expression slack. He nods at Four in recognition, and my stomach drops.

The building is familiar.

It houses the same door Colton carried me through.

 

 

There isn't too much either of us can do. Eric wasn't joking when he said everyone in Dauntless knew I was supposed to stay put. We make our way down the hallways and I realize I have no way of opening any doors except for Eric's apartment. After coming up with a quick plan to arm ourselves and head out, Tris tries to swipe her keycard to gain access to the armory, but it beeps with a warning sound that means it was declined.

"What on Earth?" She swipes it again, each time earning the same negative sound. "Why isn't this working? I just used this to get into the control room. I've always had access to this room." She tries it one final time before sighing. "It's like someone deactivated it."

I bite my lip, and I'm hesitant to tell her that I can only guess Eric had something to do with it.

"I think Eric did it," I finally suggest, but she shakes her head.

"I don't think it was him. I think it was Jeremy. Max asked him to update the software that controls all the keycards with new security settings. I think he did it to be a dick."

I've never heard her sound so angry. Her eyes flash for a moment before she shakes her head. "I'll be back. I'm gonna get this straightened out."

 

 

Tris reappears fifteen minutes later with a dejected look on her face.

"It should be fixed tonight. And Jeremy is conveniently nowhere to be found." She's scowling and I shake my head, annoyed that Jeremy would mess with Tris's security clearances for personal reasons.

"Great. We're pretty much stuck here, aren't we?" I ask her, trying not to sound disappointed. It's not her fault in the slightest. I try to think of another way to get us out of Dauntless. We could always walk out, but we'd be unarmed. And I'm fairly certain we wouldn't get past the end of the compound before someone stopped us. There's also the small fact that I'm not completely sure of the exact route to the building in factionless, nor do I know if it's still heavily guarded.

"Let's go get lunch and maybe we'll think of something then. Maybe they'll be back soon."

Tris sighs and nods. "Alright."

 

 

Tris and I eat lunch with Christina, and time moves painfully slowly. I watch the lunch line proceed at a snail's pace. Next to me, Christina is chatting with wild excitement. Not only is my memory back, but she and Rylan have made progress in their relationship, and she's dying for all of us to do something together.

"I hear there's a party coming up in a few weeks. It's supposed to be even better than the New Year's party." She takes a spoonful of her soup and I watch her try to sit still. "Molly said there would be a chocolate fountain."

Tris makes a huffing sound and I share in her frustration. Despite the grim situation Eric and Four are both in, potentially fighting against the factionless while Tris and I are effectively stuck in Dauntless, Christina's attention is still elsewhere.

"It won't matter if Four and Eric don't come back." Tris shifts in her seat and pushes the salad around her plate. "We should go after them. We shouldn't just be sitting here, waiting around." She sounds distressed now, and her eyes find mine. "Don't you want Eric to know that you remember him? Aren't you worried that he won't come back?"

I nod at her. It's not that I want to sit here and wait around for them to return, but I'm not sure what else to do. "Maybe we could try to find Karl? Maybe he would be willing to take us out there?" I didn't see him on any of the monitors in the control room, so there's a slim chance that he's still here.

Tris's eyes light up, but Christina interrupts her. "Wait, Eric doesn't know you have your memory back? And he and Four are gone?" She looks shocked.

"He left before I could tell him," I answer her. "I didn't know he would be heading out to find Evelyn." Her name leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, and I shake my head. "I hope he brings her back here. There are a few things I'd like to say to her."

There's a large part of me that wants to see her, if only to tell her I don't think she deserves to have her memory erased. I think she should have to live with what she's done, to deal with the guilt of her actions. But there's a larger part of me that thinks she doesn't feel any guilt. It's the only explanation I can come up with for how she could have found it so easy to leave her son behind.

"I'd like to say a few things to her myself," Tris says lowly. She's stabbing at her lettuce as though it has personally wronged her. "I just feel really useless right now."

"You aren't being useless. Would it really make it any better if the two of you went rushing off to wherever your lovers have gone? They'll both be annoyed that you went after them, and I'll have to hear about how mad they were that you went to save them when they both went to theoretically save you," Christina points out, then grimaces. "Then, I'll have to sit here and eat dessert by myself because you'll all be busy making up with each other."

She rolls her eyes dramatically, and I try to keep a straight face.

"Well…that's partially accurate," I tell Tris. She doesn't look convinced, but she does look less ready to run out the door.

"Fine. But if they aren't back by dinner then we're going to find them," she announces, her expression determined.

The three of us nod, and I try to enjoy the rest of my lunch and not imagine Eric and Four storming through the factionless compound.

 

 

By late afternoon I've run out of ways to keep myself entertained.

I've already taken a shower and dried my hair completely, I've changed clothes several times until finally settling on leggings and Eric's hoodie, and I've even attempted to clean up the meticulously clean apartment. It's all useless: I'm only growing more and more antsy.

I force myself to stop moving around aimlessly, and I wind up in front of Eric's bookshelves. They are still fully lined with all kinds of books, and my eyes trace over the titles until I reach the one shelf that's at my eye level. There are several books squeezed in there that seem out of place. It takes me a second to realize they are the books from my training, all neatly lined up. I'd never completely read through all of them, but I can still remember the day he handed them to me. My chest feels tight at the memory of Eric in my room, his eyes fixed on mine. I reach up and my fingers graze over the titles, stopping only when I reach the end.

There, in their own section, are the wizard books I'd been reading before. My eyes take in the titles, noting he's found the last ones in the series.

I bite my lip; wondering if his chest hurt, just as bad as mine does, when he put them on this shelf.

 

 

I count down the minutes until I can expect Tris to be at my door.

There are just eight of them left until it hits four o'clock, and each one seems to be taking longer than the next. I decide that I should probably put shoes on. Heavy boots in case it's still cold outside, or maybe my sneakers in case I want to be faster.

I haven't made up my mind yet on this earth-shattering decision when there is a knock on the door. I decide on the sneakers and make my way to answer it. I'm not surprised to find Tris standing there, chewing on her lip.

"I think we should go now. I tried to call Four and there was no answer. I'm starting to get worried." She hesitates in the doorway for a moment and I wave her in. She glances around quickly, her face hopeful that maybe they've returned and are simply hanging out here.

"I agree. I've just got to put my shoes on and we can go. Have you thought of a way out of here?" I ask her. I hurriedly throw my shoes on and I try to think of what I should bring. I shove my apartment key in my pocket, along with the cell phone Eric had returned to me. "The only thing I can think of is we can go and find Karl and order him to take us to the factionless sector."

Tris shakes her head at me. "Would that work? Will he listen to us?"

I tie my shoes and stand up, smoothing out Eric's hoodie. "Well, technically I'm a leader in training. So I outrank him, right? He won't really be able to ignore my orders."

Tris's eyes light up and she nods.

"Perfect."

 

 

"Absolutely not." Karl crosses his arms in front of his chest and he lets out a huff of exasperation. "I've been given strict orders to keep you," he pauses, and throws a fairly menacing glare at Tris, "And you, in Dauntless."

"Well, this is an order, Karl." I keep my spine straight and I stare right into his eyes. He reminds me a lot of Eric in this moment. His feet are planted firmly on the ground, his stance wide and oppressive. He towers over the two of us, and he's got the same look of exasperation that Eric frequently wears.

Karl rolls his eyes. "Everly, I don't care. I mean, I do. I know you outrank me. And trust me, I respect you." He scratches the back of his neck, and he fumbles for a second. "But my orders come from Eric, and he's a lot scarier than you are. And he outranks you." He looks at me pointedly.

"He could be in trouble. Do you really want to be responsible for that?" I glance up at him, and I know I'm not really being fair. There is no doubt that Karl is nothing but an upstanding soldier, and I can see him mentally weighing his options. I know what he's thinking; if this goes poorly, he's the one that let us out.

"Look, I don't know where they went. I've never even been to the factionless compound," he finally says, his gaze falling downwards.

"Do you have access to any of the trucks?" Tris pipes up.

Karl nods, but eyes her warily. "All of them. Why?"

"Get one of the trucks ready. We'll get the directions. Be back in fifteen." She grabs my arm before Karl can protest, and we head back inside through the large entryway.

"Who are we getting directions from?" I ask her. I'm following her up the winding stairs, and before long we're in front of the control room doors.

"I can pull up the video Rylan was watching. It'll give me the exact coordinates of where they went. It's how we send out squads to any areas that need help. We can put out an alert as well if there's anything going on that this shift hasn't picked up." She swipes her keycard, and the reader beeps and flashes green.

"Perfect," I tell her. I can feel the nerves starting up, but this is better than sitting here waiting for Eric.

I can only hope he's alright.

 

 

Karl drives slower than I'd like, but I've never driven a truck so I can't complain. It takes far less time for us to make our way into the city like this, and it's only a matter of minutes before the buildings begin to look more and more dilapidated. Karl makes a left at one particularly rotten-looking block of buildings, and he slows the truck down.

"There." He points out of his window and frowns.

I glance out the window and my eyes fall on the heavy-looking door. The building is a dark grey, and I swear I can smell the decay from here.

"Are these all abandoned?" I ask Tris.

She takes a second before answering. "Theoretically, yes. Four told me that the factionless find places that no one else would want to live and they make their homes there. Some of them are more nomadic, but Evelyn's managed to build up quite an empire around herself."

My stomach knots up at the thought of Evelyn.

Tris and I had managed to arm ourselves with knives and a few guns that Karl had on hand. They belong to the fence patrols, but he had snuck out a few extra, even though he hadn't been overly thrilled to hand them over. Tris had rolled her eyes at his reluctance, but he'd silently given in.

"There." I point to the building in the middle, and the door sends a shiver down my spine. It's the same door that I remember being pulled through when Evelyn dragged me out and injected me. Karl parks to the side, and I scan the area as we climb out. There is no sign of any other Dauntless trucks here. A spark of worry works through me, and I wonder if Eric and Four have already left.

"Well, you girls ready?" Karl is standing to the side of me, and he sounds less sure than I'd like him to. I nod at him, and I motion for Tris to follow me.

"You're coming with us?" she asks Karl, looking at him for a moment.

He throws her a dirty look. "No, I thought I'd wait outside."

I pay little attention to them, because I push the heavy door open and walk through without looking back.

 

 

The smell is unfortunately familiar.

The scent of damp earth is almost overwhelming, but it's mixed with something else, something I can't quite put my finger on. We walk slowly through the entryway room, and I glance around at the darkly empty space. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and I try not to shiver.

Something is wrong.

The whole area is too quiet.

The last time I was here, the factionless were everywhere. They seemed to occupy every ounce of free space this building offered, settling themselves into every darkened corner they could find. I didn't spend a ton of time on this upper level, but I can vaguely remember making my way through here. I throw my stare towards the long hallway, knowing there's a staircase that leads down below.

I move silently, trying to listen for any little sound.

There is none.

While the majority of the compound does lie several floors beneath the soil, we should still be able to hear at least a faint murmuring coming from below. Like Dauntless, the factionless seem to give off a constant hum. But I don't hear anything aside from the sounds of footsteps as Karl and Tris catch up to me.

"Where do we go?" Tris asks.

"This way," I tell them, keeping my voice low. Karl and Tris follow me until we reach the stairs that lead down to the lower levels, neither one hesitating to follow after me.

 

 

We find Four in the middle of the compound.

He's standing alongside one of the patrol squads, and their guns are aimed in our general direction. His eyes widen when he realizes who we are and he motions sharply for them to lower their weapons.

"Stand down!" he barks, and he makes his way over to us. He doesn't look overly happy to see us, and he immediately reaches out for Tris's arm. "What are you doing here?" His eyes land on Karl who looks relieved to see him. "Did you two make Karl bring you here?"

"Where's Eric?" I ignore Four and look around, trying to figure out why Eric isn't with him. The common area is deserted except for Four and the men behind him, but it is just as trashed as the upper level.

Four stares at me for a second, then he looks back to Tris. "Did you see anyone on your way down here?"

Tris shakes her head and I wait impatiently for him to answer my question. He turns his stare back to me, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Fine. I may have ordered Karl to bring us here. Now where's my husband?" I demand, starting to grow nervous. I don't like the idea of Eric wandering off by himself, especially not here.

"He's finishing up here. Everyone was mostly gone when we arrived. We've rounded up the remaining factionless and we're taking them back to Dauntless to be questioned. Eric went with one of the squads to check out a few of the rooms further back. He's convinced that Evelyn's still here."

I chew the side of my cheek.

Of course he is. Of course Eric wouldn't believe that Evelyn had left. It's too easy for her to be gone, slipping just out of his reach.

"Let's get you two back to the trucks. It's not safe here. Karl can walk you back outside." Four is talking quietly and he throws a look to Karl. "Have them head back with the patrol squad. The trucks are out back, just around the building."

"Alright." Karl sounds pleased to be leaving, but I shake my head no.

"I'm going to go find him," I announce. I wonder what Eric thinks of Evelyn's abrupt departure. While I don't know where she could have gone, it certainly suits her cowardly nature. I'm not surprised she didn't stay here, knowing that Eric could come after her.

"No, you'll stay here." Four looks stern now, like he's talking to someone from his class. "I'm not about to answer to Eric when something happens to you."

I step back from him, nearly crashing into Karl. "I'm not leaving this building without him." I cross my arms in front of my chest and I can see the exasperation on Four's face.

"Everly," he pauses, as though he doesn't want to say the next words out loud. "This place is rigged to blow up. You want to be here when that happens?" He stares at me intently.

"I don't. And I don't want Eric in here when it happens, either," I retort.

The patrol squad behind him is watching us intently, waiting to see who will win out here. For a moment, it's a standoff. Neither Four nor I back down, we simply glare at each other until Tris pulls on Four's arm. Her distraction is enough for me to decide that I'll find Eric myself if need be.

"Four, we can't just leave Eric here. Send Karl and Everly and I'll stay with you. Or, you and I can go with them." She glances at me and I nod. That plan sounds better than sitting in a truck and waiting to see if Eric returns.

"We aren't leaving Eric here. I'll radio for him that she's here and he'll head out. There's no reason for her to be traipsing around when everyone needs to be above ground." Four sounds exasperated. "Are you both forgetting that Eric is the one who arranged for us to come here? He can handle himself."

"I'll go with her," Karl announces. He steps beside me, and I feel a sudden rush of affection for him. "Give us five minutes. You tell us where Eric went, we'll go take a look, and then meet you above ground."

Four doesn't look convinced. He stays quiet for a moment before Tris shoves his arm a bit.

"We're wasting time," she says softly, and he finally nods.

"Fine," he says flatly. "Meet us at the trucks in five minutes."

 

 

Precious time has gone by and I've reached a whole new level of panic.

Most of the rooms are empty, and the place looks deserted, as though everyone left in a big hurry. There are articles of clothing strewn around, broken furniture, and shards of glass that glitter as we walk through them, but not a soul in sight. The strange smell is still here, stronger and almost metallic.

"I don't think they're here," Karl tells me. We've made our way through the furthest rooms in the building, and we've found nothing except darkness. I frown at him.

"I think we should go back," Karl says firmly, and as much as I don't want to admit it, I'm starting to get a bad feeling, as though something terrible is about to happen. I silently hope that I'm wrong, and I try to shake it off. We walk quickly, looping back around until we're almost back to where we found Four.

"Do you think Eric left?" I stop in the middle of the common area, near the tables where Landon and I had sat while he filled me in on what was going on. I can still picture him, sitting there talking, while the factionless milled around us. My eyes flick to the side of the room and land on a dark doorway. I realize it leads to the office that Evelyn seemed to conduct all her business in.

"I think so. I feel like we would have run into him and his squad by now." Karl is glancing around, staring up at the empty spaces that seemed to be carved out of the walls.

"Give me a minute," I throw out. I'm halfway to the door before Karl yells my name. I open the heavy wooden door slowly, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to her dark office. It's nothing like the leaders' offices in Dauntless. It's smaller and cramped with mismatched furniture. There's an overturned bookshelf and a broken lamp. I rifle through the papers on the desk, most of them crumpled and full of scribbles.

I sigh, finding nothing of any importance.

After far too much staring at her desk, I turn to make my way back out. I blink at the empty room, and when I reach the tables I realize we've been down here for much longer than five minutes.

I find Karl standing beside the staircase with a funny look on his face. "What's wrong?" I glance towards the level above us, wondering what Karl's staring at.

"Thought I heard something up there."

"Eric," I tell him, and he nods.

I take off towards the stairs. It has to be Eric, and the sooner we find him the sooner we can get out of here. I near the top of the stairs, ignoring the creeping feeling that's making its way up my spine. I can't see anyone around me, but I can hear the thud of a heavy footstep in the distance.

Karl comes to a halt beside me. "You see him?"

I shake my head, disappointment washing over me. There's nothing here except an empty hallway and a few rotten doors. "Maybe he went through there." I point at one of the doors, but I freeze when I see someone walking towards us. They walk slowly, with lethal intent.

I don't see who it is until he steps out of the shadow, his eyes fixed on me.

"So, I finally get the chance to fight you." Colton's words float over me and my whole body lurches to a stop. I hadn't forgotten what he sounds like, but I had forgotten how nasty his tone is. I turn slowly, until I'm staring at him face to face.

He's watching me carefully, and I can tell that this time he will kill me if he gets the chance.

"Fuck," Karl hisses. I can feel him tense beside me, preparing to fight. He reaches for me, his hand on my arm as he attempts to shove me behind him.

"I was disappointed that I had to bring you back here alive." Colton's eyes flash at me, and up close he looks slightly maddened, as though he's been worn down into nothing more than a mindless drone for Evelyn. "Good thing there's no one here to insist you stay alive this time."

"Where is everyone?" I ask him, noting the way he looks sickeningly thrilled at the sight of me.

Colton grins. "Are you disappointed that they weren't here to welcome you back?" He approaches us in one long stride, effectively backing us towards the opening of the staircase. He eyes Karl and we both realize he's going to attack.

Karl's grip is now painful, and I can tell he's trying to stay calm. I feel him reach for his gun, but he's too slow and Colton is too prepared. With one powerful shove, Karl is tumbling backwards down the stairs, letting out a sharp groan when he reaches the bottom.

"Karl!" I yell his name, but I can't help him. Colton has stepped down onto the first step, positioning himself right below me and blocking me from going after Karl. He looks up at me with a stare full of malice, as though he will take great joy in my imminent death.

I take a step back from him, and I reach one hand into the pocket of Eric's hoodie. I don't need to kill him, not just yet. I want answers from him, and I just need to hurt him enough that he'll stay down.

He grins at me, something feral and dark, as he slowly steps towards me.

Maybe I do need to kill him.

"Where's Evelyn? I ask him. My fingers grip the handle of the knife and I take another deliberate step away from him.

Colton laughs, and it sounds painful in my ear. "Doesn't matter. Who's gonna save you this time, little girl? Your big bad husband know where you are?"

I swallow, trying to stall. I wonder if he knows Eric is here with the other Dauntless. He must not have seen him, or else he wouldn't be questioning me. "He does," I throw out casually, and Colton rolls his eyes.

"He must like them stupid."

He lunges for me, one hand reaching for my throat, but I'm ready. He's surprised when instead of my throat, his hand hits the blade of my knife, neatly slicing his palm open. He lets out a pained yelp, and stumbles back for a second before I pounce on him.

I hit his face easily, pleased when I hear his jaw make a cracking sound, and even more pleased when he staggers backwards. He's off-balance and I lunge again, this time hitting him as hard as I can in the side, hoping he'll fall backwards down the stairs. I can hear Karl stumbling to get up, groaning my name.

Colton doesn't slow down. "Well, that was stupid." He looks right at me, his eyes wild.

I should have stabbed him.

He recovers fairly quickly. He pulls himself to his full height and dives for me. I feel his hands grasp at my arms, and the next thing I know he has knocked me down, pinning me beneath his heavy weight. His fist slams into my ribs and I gasp, trying to curl myself inwards in some sort of defense. The pain bursts through me, and he digs his knees into my thighs.

"Stupid little bitch. You sent him here, you know. You sent that pierced idiot in here, not knowing that it's gonna blow sky high in a few minutes. You shoulda left well enough alone." He pushes harder, and I can't breathe now. I manage to wriggle one arm free, and I try to slide it towards my waist. There's a gun in my waistband, but Colton is making it hard to move. "Evelyn will take great joy in both of your deaths."

"Fuck you," I say tightly, and I try to wriggle free from him. I can still hear Karl, and I know I just need to stall for a moment until he's here.

"She's gone," Colton hisses. "You drove her out of her home. You're no better than him."

I know he's talking about Eric, and I struggle to keep my mouth shut. My fingers graze the metal of the gun and I try to shift slightly. I manage to gain an inch of space, kneeing him hard.

"She's a monster," I finally gasp when I pull the gun free, "Just like you."

I close my eyes as I pull the trigger.

 

 

I push Colton off of me.

I never thought that I would hurt anyone this way, that I would be the one to end their life as though I had the authority to do so. But this is different. Colton would have murdered me without a second thought. He's already hurt me enough, and he would only continue to hurt others had I let him go.

I stand up shakily, wiping my hands on my leggings when I hear someone say my name.

"Everly."

I turn to find Eric standing there, his eyes large and angry. "What happened?" He snarls the words as he walks over to me, Karl trailing behind him. Karl looks a little woozy, and he's rubbing the side of his head as he follows him towards me.

Karl's eyes fall to Colton's body and then back to me, grimacing. "Sorry, Everly."

"I thought I told you to stay in Dauntless." Eric's voice sounds livid, and he narrows his eyes at the sight before him. He comes to an abrupt halt a few feet away from me, his whole body tensed up.

"I wanted to come find you. I thought you were in trouble." I look up at him, waiting for him to move, but he doesn't. He stands there, his hands tightening into fists. I realize he's furious, despite the fact that I've managed to stay alive. His eyes are dark and hard, and his mouth is pressed together so tightly that his lips are a thin line. "Eric," I pause, trying to slow my breathing down. I feel wild, scarily unlike myself. "I killed him."

Eric doesn't say anything. His eyes flick over to Colton's lifeless body then back to me. He rubs his hand over his face. "Why didn't you listen to me?" he demands.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Do you realize how unwise it was for you to come here? He could have killed you." Eric spits the words at me, and I stare at him, dumbfounded. His chest heaves with his short, sharp breaths, "You got lucky, Everly." He takes a step towards me, and for the first time ever since I've known him, I find myself taking a step back from him. I'm not afraid of Eric, but I am afraid that he's really truly mad at me.

His eyes widen when he realizes I'm not walking towards him, but rather away. He stops short and swallows heavily. My hands are a bit shaky now, and I avert my stare from his shocked grey eyes.

"I'm sorry," I tell him quietly, and I can feel my eyes start to burn. I will myself not to cry, not right now. I'm proud of what I've done. I came after Eric to make sure he was alright, I handled Colton by myself, and now I will get us out of here. Eric can be mad that I didn't listen to him, but he can be mad about that later.

Eric exhales sharply, his face flashing with frustration. He stands immobile, as though he's afraid I'll bolt from him or shrink back if he takes one more step.

"We were supposed to meet Four outside, but we ran into Colton," I tell him. I sound sniffly, probably from the fact that everything is starting to hit me as the adrenaline surge from earlier fades.

Karl is standing to the side of us with a grim expression on his face. I can tell this is more than he was expecting to find here; more action than he'd thought he would experience so soon.

Eric looks at me strangely, and he suddenly glances around the room, his stare falling to the corner of the room. "Four and I figured out it's wired to explode. She would have killed them all without any of them being the wiser." I can tell he's upset; his jaw is tight and he looks ready to snap.

I nod. "I hate her."

Eric stares at me, then nods wordlessly.

I move my stare away from him, and I wipe at my eyes. I'm not crying, but I could be. He takes a slow step forward, his eyes watching me carefully, and I reach for his hand. My eyes blur when he grasps mine tightly, the feel of his palm familiar against mine.

"Let's go," he tells us, pulling me along with him. Karl follows behind, his whole being on alert for any other surprises. Eric pulls me through the factionless compound, through the winding maze of hallways. I can smell the scent of something in the air, something almost mechanical, and it only worsens when we near the doors.

"Run." Eric shoves me forwards as something beeps and I stumble a bit as I make my way out the door. He's a mere second behind me, and I see the spark of the explosion before I hear it. It's bright, yellow and red and orange, and I run faster, blindly reaching back for Eric. We make it to the empty street before I trip, and Eric half-catches me. He doesn't stop until we are good distance away, and I watch as the building seems to light up from the inside out, its floors letting out a wail as the flames slowly climb up the building.

"Shit," Karl announces, coming to a halt beside us. "You guys weren't joking."

I tighten my hold on Eric, thinking that if we had been just seconds later we might not be standing here.

"I told you." Eric's hands reach for my head, and he places one on each side, roughly jerking me to him. "I told you that you were never going outside again." He says the words violently, and I nod at him before his mouth is on mine. He kisses me furiously, desperately, as though he may never have the chance again. I reach up, throwing my arms around him and pressing myself as close to him as possible. One of his hands moves to the back of my hair, his grip tangling into it so tightly it's painful, but I don't care.

"I know you did. And I promised not to," I mumble the words against his mouth, "I won't, never again."

He stops kissing me for a second. He's breathing heavily, his whole body against mine. "I'm sorry you had to kill him." He's looking in my eyes now and I nod, still feeling like I could cry at any moment.

"I'm sorry," I tell him. I loosen one hand to wipe at my eyes. "I can't stop shaking."

Eric nods and his expression darkens. "I know. It'll pass." He rests his forehead against mine and when he talks, his voice is low and rough. "Don't do that to me again."

I can faintly hear Four and Tris, somewhere in the distance. They're yelling our names, but neither of us move, unwilling to let go of one another.

I rise up on my toes, letting my hands find the side of his face, and I kiss him until my hands stop shaking.

 

 

 

 

Four's POV // Outtkae

The night shift is my favorite because it's so quiet.

The control room is mostly empty at this time; tonight there are only three of us in here, and I could probably make do without either of them. I recline back in my chair, gazing at the row of monitors in front of me.

Working in the control room hadn't really been my first choice, but it's been an effective, subtle way for me to keep tabs on not just Dauntless but the other factions as well. It turns out I chose wisely; withdrawing from the alluring leadership position after discovering Eric's ideas about training were being well-received was the right thing for me to do. He and I would never have seen eye to eye; I didn't think I could stand to be around him and deal with his ulterior motives. Besides, taking the leadership position would have given me less freedom than I have now. I watch Eric slink from meeting to meeting, spending his days tapping away on a tablet, answering to the demands of others, and constantly being a well-known presence wherever he went in Dauntless.

Despite his aloofness, his sneering dismissal of most members of our faction, he's easily accessible.

This is better.

I am able to watch all of the factions carefully, monitoring what I want. It also gives me an out, especially on nights like this when my chest feels uncomfortably tight after catching a glimpse of Tris walking along with Jeremy. I know that losing Tris was likely all my own doing; perhaps I had been too distant, too worn down to allow her to be close to me, too fearful of my own stark feelings for her.

I can't do anything about it now, but I can sit here, carefully keeping tabs on the rest of the city.

The man beside me coughs, something painful and deep, and he flicks his gaze to me.

"I'll be back. I'm gonna go grab some cough drops from the nurse."

I nod at him, not really minding.

Half an hour later, I've checked every single camera twice and there's nothing even remotely interesting going on. For once, everywhere is quiet, including my mother's factionless section.

It's been a bit more of a hassle to get out of the compound lately. Between training the newest batch of initiates and keeping tabs on Everly, I've had little time to slip out. No one really pays close attention to what I do, but I have the advantage of being able to erase my returns to Dauntless. Leaving has become even easier, now that I know I can set certain cameras not to record until future times.

Sometimes it's not worth it to go.

The anger is heavy in my stomach, and I find myself feeling guilty over it. My last visit with her had only fueled the fire. She'd refused to talk about anything more than the help she wanted from me, and it left me reeling. I can't push down all my anger much longer; the anger at her for leaving me, anger at myself for not being able to stand up to Marcus, and anger that my mother refuses to acknowledge any of her actions all combine together and threaten to consume me.

Tris was the only thing that had ever made me feel less guilty, but I swallow down that thought.

I click on camera five and I watch as it changes to a view of the chasm. It captures a bit of the hallway, the wide angle lens added after one too many drunken members tested their luck around the waterfall. I rub at my eyes, tiredly realizing I still have far too long to go before I can lie down and sleep.

My thoughts wander for a moment before I catch sight of Everly walking alongside Eric.

Well, she's less walking and more being ushered along the walkway. I try to bite down the bitter taste in my mouth. It's not that I feel anything for her. For a minute, I had thought maybe I could; but it wasn't the same as when I saw Tris. Sure, Everly is pretty. She is happy and sweet and almost half of my class spent a good deal of time staring at her whenever she happened to be near. But I never felt the same pull to her that I felt with Tris.

But Eric certainly did. I'd watched him worm his way close to her, the same manipulative way he'd wormed his way up through the ranks. The same ranks that had given him the seemingly unlimited power to do whatever he pleased. Max seemed oblivious to Eric's extracurricular activities. There were too many nights that I'd watched Eric leave Dauntless heavily armed and his face smug. I was there when he returned in the early morning, his hands dirtied and his lips curled into a smirk. He used the same cunning grin on Everly, letting his hands linger on her and his eyes follow after her as though he owned her.

I found it bothersome that no one else seemed to notice.

Since she'd arrived, he'd all but stopped leaving. No longer did he seem to be routinely heading out; in fact, he surprisingly spent all of his time with Everly. The first time I watched the two of them head back to his apartment, I had a crazed notion to ask Max to move her. It wasn't my place, but I wanted to bang my head against the wall when I first spotted her trailing after him one day, following him right into his living quarters and not stepping out until the next morning.

I still worry for her. The girl isn't really any safer with Eric than she would have been with my class, but I had tried. It's out of my hands now, and the best I can do is try to check in on her and make sure she's OK.

I eye Eric critically, watching his slightly fuzzy form hesitate in a predacious manner beside her before shoving her out of the frame.

"No." I say the word out loud, and the lone man beside me turns his head and blinks slowly.

"Section nine go out again?" He says the words slowly, bored out of his skull.

"I, uh, yeah. I got it, though." I flash him a distracted smile, and I quickly bang out a few other camera options. I need to find her, to see her, and make sure that he isn't about to kill her.

In a turn of events that I never expected, she and Eric seemed rather close lately. But it can only mean one thing: he is threatened by her. She's either doing poorly enough that he'll be shamed when she doesn't pass, or she's doing well enough that he thinks she could hurt him. I'd watched her fight against him, so I knew it had to be the latter. Eric likes to eliminate anything and anyone that poses a threat to him.

My stomach knots up and I try to stop my leg from bouncing. I click furiously now, trying to find a better view. I'm rewarded by the sight of the two of them, shoved up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist and his mouth on hers.

Oh.

Ohhhh.

I can feel the blood rush to my face, and I try hard to keep my expression neutral.

"You figure it out?" the bored one calls out. He's examining the monitors with little interest. "Stupid crap keeps freezing tonight."

I click LOCK SCREEN and select FIVE so my companions won't be able to access this camera.

"Yeah, no biggie. Just something malfunctioning as usual." I try to sound casual, as though I'm not watching Eric aggressively perform mouth to mouth with his initiate. For a moment, I can feel the panic rising: maybe he's trapped her and she needs help. I glance at the control room door, making some mental calculations. I could make it there in six minutes if I leave now.

But judging by the way her hands reach around his neck, digging into his short hair, I can tell she's certainly not struggling.

I swallow when he reaches between them, and seconds later I can see him working his pants down his hips.

I close my eyes when he sets her down, and he moves his hand until his boxers slide down to reveal his legs.

"You okay there, Four? You look a little bothered." The man with the barking cough is back, and he slides into the chair a few seats down from me.

"I'm fine." My voice sounds almost normal, as though I haven't just witnessed the man who tried to kill me during our initiation undress in the middle of Dauntless. I watch his hips push into hers, the bare skin of his ass something I'd never really wanted to see again. I'd caught enough of it during our initiation; it seems that Eric's lack of modesty hasn't changed one bit.

"Okey dokey."

It seems to continue on for far too long.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I find my eyes sliding back to the screen. I feel like I should be disgusted with myself because I keep glancing back at the screen out of the corner of my eye, almost wishing I had a better angle, but I don't. I can barely make out Everly now, and I squint one eye shut in hopes of blurring Eric's form.

It's weird that Eric and Everly are both so open. Neither of them seem to be the least bit bothered that someone could walk by them at any moment. He's busy thrusting into her with the same wild abandon with which he does everything else, the same air of confidence that never leaves him.

He moves to the left a bit, adjusting Everly slightly, and I can make out the satisfied look on her face. She's definitely pretty; her hair is spilling over her shoulders and she's smiling at him. She looks content to be there with him, as though he's chosen her and he's pleased enough to show her off in the middle of the compound. Maybe that explains the delight behind his act; Eric's actions are enough to show his uncontrolled desire for her.

Maybe that's what all girls want.

I wonder if Tris would want this.

For a moment I freeze, trying to imagine Tris and myself out in the open, her hands in my hair and her legs around my waist. Her head tilted back and her eyes staring up at me.

It's not like I'm clueless when it comes to the opposite sex. I understand how it works, and it's not like I didn't try hard to make it the best I could for Tris. Those times with her, though they always felt greedy on my own part, were the only nights my life felt like it was actually worth something.

I wonder if Eric feels the same way.

I open my other eye and glance back at the screen.

They've moved, but my whole body tightens when I see that he's bent her over the railing, one hand on her waist and the other fisted in her hair. I push down the concern that burns through my mind. She could fall, obviously. I don't know how pleased Max will be if they have to fish her out of the water, her skirt shoved up around her waist. Eric could break her rib or something while he's busy slamming her against the metal rails. Someone could walk by and catch a glimpse of them, scarring another member for life.

While I'm sure there are some guys, and maybe even some girls, that wouldn't mind watching Eric bang some girl against the railing, it's not something I want to willingly watch. But it's hard not to.

I feel my whole body grow hot when I realize Everly is now thoroughly enjoying herself. I watch her arch back into him, her tiny body seeming to want him closer. I'm mildly impressed with how adventurous she is, and I idly wonder if all of Amity is like this. It's clear that she grew up with the idea that sex isn't considered the ultimate selfish act, that finding sexual satisfaction with one's partner isn't the least bit shameful. I watch her reach for him, and I can almost feel her longing for him to be even closer to her.

Eric looks at her in a weird way sometimes, one that tells everyone else to back off his initiate. Even now, he's made sure she's mostly covered, his much larger body obscuring her own. My thoughts are interrupted by the sounds of coughing again, and I take a sip of my water, trying to seem at ease.

I choke when Eric reaches forward and covers her mouth with his hand. The act seems aggressive, dominating in nature, but I soon realize he's making sure she's quiet.

It takes me a second to see the people milling below them. I can barely make out their heads on the lower level, but Eric has obviously spotted them. While I'm slightly relieved he's trying to keep her from giving away their position, I'm somewhat startled when I realize this isn't the first time they've done this. He holds her with a careful ease, as though he knows just how tightly he can hold onto her.

I watch his hand reach around and between her legs, and I turn to stare at the man next to me. He still looks bored, his eyes half-closed.

"If you, uh, don't feel good, you can always head out early. I'll cover for you." I'm probably staring at him a little too intensely, but I need a distraction. I can't watch Eric and Everly anymore. I'm not sure how I'll look either of them in the eye ever again, knowing that I've watched them share their very private moment rather publicly.

"Cool. I'm gonna take you up on that." He coughs again, and this time I am grateful when he stands up. "Thanks, man." I watch him log off his computer and stand to leave. I nod at him, and give him a half wave goodbye.

I turn my stare back to the screen, breathing a sigh of relief when I realize they're done. Eric's helping her smooth out the skirt of her dress, and then he quickly zips his own pants up. Even on the grainy footage he looks smug, his face obviously pleased with his little adventure.

My eyes widen and I swear softly when he looks directly at the camera, one eyebrow raised as if he knew it was there the whole time. And probably knew who would be on duty watching, too.

I bump into her in the hallway, and I immediately let loose a string of apologies, most of which I don't utter aloud.

I'm sorry.

So sorry.

Sorry that I watched you and Eric, shoved up against the wall.

So sorry that I watched him take you from behind, holding onto you tightly, as if you two were unable to wait until you made it back to his apartment.

I'm sorry that I sat there, my insides tight as I watched one of the leaders of Dauntless finish up his business while an entire group of my own initiates milled around a single floor below.

I'm sorry that the whole encounter keeps replaying in my mind, making me think things I've never really considered before.

At least I deleted the footage, triple checking to make sure every angle had been erased.

I finally meet her stare, her eyes meeting mine and she looks happy. Happy and well-rested, as though she and Eric had spent their night playing card games and gone to bed early. The sight of her brings a flood of embarrassment through me, as though I were the one who was so openly exposed.

"Everly." I mutter her name, and I can feel the tips of my ears turn pink. "I uh…yeah good to see you. Again. I'm uh a bit late. Goodnight." I shove myself past her, not bothering to listen for her reply.

I know she'll see them sooner or later.

The little red lights that are sort of hidden amongst the corners of Dauntless.

At least I hope she will.


	35. Forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> I hope everyone had a fantastic holiday! Thank you so much for following along with this story. I can't believe we've made it this far. Enjoy this beast of a chapter.   
> I hope you guys have a wonderful and safe New Years :)
> 
> And also, I'm really glad everyone enjoyed CreeperFour. It seriously made me crack up ;)

Eric is still mad.

He drives one of the trucks back, and he doesn't take his eyes off the road. His shoulders are tense, and his jaw is clenched together as though he's biting back his words.

I know his anger won't last forever, but right now it feels spectacularly crappy.

I scoot closer to him, and I hear him sigh quietly, and he finally reaches one hand over to grasp mine. His fingers intertwine with mine, and I feel my stomach flip over, as though this is the first time he's ever held my hand.

 

 

It's raining by the time we arrive back at Dauntless, and the air is cold and sharp.

I grip Eric's hand tightly as we walk to our apartment, unwilling to let go of him. My limbs have finally stopped shaking, but I'm afraid they will start again if I'm not touching him. We make our way down the cavernous hallways that I've walked through countless times. The hallways feel like they are made of ice, and I'm glad Eric is leading the way.

It doesn't take long to reach his apartment, and it's only a few minutes more before everyone from tonight's raid follows us inside. I wish they would give us a moment alone. I still haven't had the chance to tell Eric that I can remember everything, but now is not the time. It's as though some silent call has been sent out, and everyone of any importance has been alerted to our return and summoned for an impromptu meeting.

Eric's apartment is suddenly filled with more people than I have ever seen. Max and Tori arrive and are seated at our kitchen table. Beside them are Karl and Peter; Rylan and Jason, who both look the tiniest bit stressed out; Kacie, who's glancing around the apartment as though she's searching for something hidden in the décor; and finally, Arlene.

I have no idea who invited her, but I don't want to find out. My last memory of her had to do with me shooing her and her birth control away. For a moment, I'm glad Eric doesn't know I can remember everything; I don't need an in-depth conversation with Arlene about birth control plans and my current lack of them.

"We can send out a message tonight. Tell them to shoot on sight if the need arises."

Max is talking and I stay next to Eric. He has slung his arm around me, keeping me pinned to his side. Tris has glanced at me curiously a few times, and this time I shake my head no, silently telling her I haven't told him yet. I simply haven't had the chance. His apartment has been a whirlwind of action since the moment we stepped through the door.

"We'll need to find her photo and make a bulletin. I want it broadcast on every medium tonight, and we'll have it repeat every half hour in every faction. She's to be brought to any leader if found. No questions asked." Max says the words firmly, and I wonder if there's any leader that would be willing to help her. I immediately wonder about her making her way to Abnegation, but there seems to be way too much bad blood there.

"Do you think Marcus would help hide her?" Despite my trepidation that he is still furious with me, I ask Eric very quietly and he shakes his head.

"I think she's on the run. I don't think she'd be smart enough to threaten Marcus into hiding her." Eric bends his head down to speak to me, and I can feel him tighten his grip around me. He still looks irritated, the frustration bleeding through his features.

"Did you find anything useful?" Tris asks, her voice neutral. I know she's curious as to what they found before we got there, and I'm guessing Four didn't offer up any information on their drive back. He's standing beside her, and he looks almost as irritated as Eric. It seems that neither of them was particularly thrilled with our decision to join them.

"Not much. There were only a handful of people who remained; ironically, they couldn't remember a single thing. She knew we were coming," Eric answers her, his voice rather dry.

Tris swings her eyes to me before she turns back to Eric. "How many factionless are there?"

Eric shrugs and turns his glare to Four. "I'm not exactly the one who could answer that question." I wait for him to out Four and announce that he had a large part in their rebellion training. But he doesn't. "Enough that she's a threat if they all support her."

"This is just like Jeanine all over again," Peter haughtily pipes up from the table, reclining back in the spot I'd once sat upon while I'd kissed Eric. He probably wouldn't look so smug if he knew that. He's tilting the chair back and balancing with one finger on the table. "Look how well her plans went over. Oh wait, we stopped them. I think we're making a big deal out of nothing."

"Jeanine was one woman with a few powerful supporters. Evelyn is one woman with an entire army of supporters. She's everything Jeanine wanted to be," Eric snaps at him, and he finds my fingers, his grip becoming vise-like. "And who invited you here?"

I try not to snort at his annoyed words, and Tris looks like she's holding back a laugh.

"As one of the fence supervisors, I'm required to be here so I know what to tell the rest of them when I go back," Peter throws out. "By the way, nice place you got here, Eric. Who would have thought you were so good at decorating?"

"That's enough," Max snaps, and I can see why Peter was never considered for a position that would allow him to be around any of them for very long. "We'll get started tonight. Jason and Rylan, let's plan on sending something out in the next hour or so. Kacie, make sure your control room teams know exactly who and what they're looking for. Eric and Four, meet me at my office in an hour and we'll contact Jack and Johanna. Arlene will be in contact with all the medical centers. If anyone comes in acting suspicious, we'll make sure to have them brought here."

All around me, everyone is nodding.

"What about Erudite? Who's been appointed to oversee the faction?" Four asks. He's standing beside Tris, his arms folded across his chest. "There's a chance she's headed there, knowing it has no leader."

Tori finally speaks, her voice tired. "Jack's overseeing it for the moment. I doubt Evelyn would head there after what happened with Jeanine. My guess is, she's going to seek out shelter in a less conspicuous place."

Four doesn't look convinced, and I wonder if he thinks she's gone to Abnegation. I suddenly realize no one has mentioned Marcus. As if Eric can read my thoughts he bends down again. "They aren't including Marcus in this until they're sure he isn't involved." He says the words so quietly I almost don't hear him.

"Are you staying here for a minute?" I ask him. Eric nods silently.

"Any questions?" Max throws out, and everyone shakes their head no before standing to depart from the apartment. Rylan and Jason talk briefly with Four, and Kacie lingers for a moment, her stare wandering towards the bedroom door. She finally leaves when Peter knocks into her, mumbling half an apology.

"Four, you wanna head down and get a coffee?" Karl's voice is just as enthusiastic as I remember it, and I can't help but smile. He's calmer now that we're back in Dauntless; he's reverted back to the same Karl that I remember. I'm sure he's thinking how perfect it is that his position allows him all the action and excitement he's ever wanted.

"Sure," Four answers, and he throws Eric a look that I can't read. I have the sinking feeling Karl won't get off easily for letting Tris and me out of Dauntless. "I'll meet you at Max's office in an hour or so."

Eric and I watch as everyone finally leaves. Arlene is one of the last to go, but this time her attention isn't on Eric or me: it's on Max, and she's talking rather furiously as the two of them head out.

The door shuts behind them and the abrupt silence seems overwhelming.

 

 

The bath water is scalding hot, but it doesn't matter.

I sink beneath it, enjoying the way that it seems to burn away the memories of today that I'd like to forget: Colton and his final moments, Evelyn's vanishing whereabouts, and Eric's fury at my failure to listen to him. I sit back up, wiping water out of my eyes and attempting to brush wet hair out of my face. I feel marginally better, but not much.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he was right.

Maybe I should have listened. Just a little bit.

It's too late now, though.

I vaguely wonder if Eric will come in here.

I've never taken a bath in Eric's bathroom before, but it seemed like a good distraction. After everyone left, Eric had almost immediately begun tapping away on his tablet, his stare not even flicking towards me. His dismissal was clear; he wasn't in the mood to talk, and I'd have to wait until he was. That was fine with me; I'd rather he be less furious when he finally came to talk to me.

I open my eyes and reach for the fancy bottle of bath soap I'd bought. It was one of the few purchases that I'd made with Eric's points. I'd smiled when I bought it, giving them Eric's name and thinking just how thrilled he'd be to discover it on his statement.

The bathroom door opens and I keep my eyes on the bottle, reading down the fancy label. I can just barely see Eric out of the corner of my eye. He walks past me, and I assume he'll take a shower before he has to head back to meet Max and Four. I can feel the disappointment well up in me suddenly; he'll be gone before I can even try to make this right.

I try to squeeze some of the soap onto my hands and I notice that they're still shaky. I frown, wishing it would stop. I don't want Colton's death to define me, but it has certainly left me uneasy. All throughout Eric's training, I had never once been afraid. I'd shot weapon after weapon with him, but somehow the cold metal had felt less intimidating when he was behind me.

I hear Eric make his way towards me, but I keep my stare ahead. I should apologize, offer up some sort of rational explanation for why I went after him, but for some reason I can't.

"Move." His voice is low and threatening, though he probably doesn't mean it to be. It sounds intimidating in the same way he used to talk lowly in my ear in hopes of scaring me into listening to him.

I scoot forwards, not really thinking anything of it. He's probably going to tell me to get out of here so he can shower in peace, or that he's gotten me a book on the proper way to listen to one's husband. I don't pay attention until I feel his weight step in behind me.

I freeze, realizing he's going to sit down and join me in the bath.

He places one leg on each side of me, ignoring the way that his added presence makes some of the bath water spill over the rim of the tub. The tub is huge, but Eric's frame seems to take up all the remaining space. His feet reach the very end, and he settles himself for a moment before one large hand reaches around my waist to pull me back towards him. His knees are above the water, but we're both mostly submerged beneath the sea of overly sweet-smelling bubbles.

I lean back into his chest and he sighs.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you." My voice echoes in the bathroom, and Eric makes an unpleasant sound in response.

"I know. I should have stayed here. I put your whole mission at risk, and I involved Tris and Karl…" I trail off, and realize Eric's body seems to tighten around mine, his legs moving inwards.

"I sometimes forget how young you are," he says softly, and I can tell he's been thinking about this. "I know the idea of coming after us probably seemed like your duty as a member of Dauntless, as someone who I personally trained. Maybe even as my wife." One of his hands trails down my arm, lazily tracing over the skin. "But, Everly..." Eric hesitates for just a moment, "...I don't know how else to tell you that I don't want to lose you."

I keep my stare on his knee, my heart thudding wildly.

"I can only keep you safe if you let me." His fingers have stopped on my wrist, and then move down to my hands, turning them over until my palm is facing up. "I've told you that before."

I nod against his chest, enjoying the feeling of him behind me. "I thought I could help."

He bends his head down so his nose is somewhere in my hair. Despite having spent the day stomping around the factionless compound, he still smells good, rich and clean like he always does. I reach one arm up and behind me until I can feel his hair. "You don't need to prove anything to me, Everly." His words are careful and quiet and only for me.

"I know. I just wanted to save you," I tell him, my words achingly honest. Yesterday I'd felt desperate; desperate to find him, desperate to have him back with me, desperate to be with him. Desperate to return to our sense of normalcy.

Eric huffs into my hair. "You should know better. I can take care of myself. I don't need to be saved. Not like that."

He pulls away the tiniest bit and I feel him reach for the bottle of shampoo that's set to the side. I eye it warily, remembering the last time he helped wash my hair, when it wound up mostly in my eyes.

"I need to tell you something," I whisper, and I don't even realize I've closed my eyes. I feel him still for a second, his body tensing up and I wonder if he will ever not be on the defensive. He relaxes after a second, and I can feel the warmth of his chest as he exhales.

"What? That you've finally agreed you won't go outside ever again?" He's only half-teasing. He works the shampoo through my hair, and it feels much better than when I wash it myself. He pulls it through the ends, pulling on the strands the same way he's done a million times before. Impatient as ever.

"Well?" He asks, stopping just long enough to say the word. He helps me rinse out my hair before he reaches for the soap again. He then takes my hands, and very gently scrubs them clean. They aren't bloodied; in fact, they weren't even that dirty despite my scuffle with Colton. But he carefully washes them, taking much longer than I would have, and he doesn't stop until the skin is faintly pink.

Reluctantly, I break away to turn and look at him. He's still bent over, but he doesn't look remotely uncomfortable. His eyes are dark and half-hooded, almost pensive as he looks down at me. They darken even more when I smile at him, uttering the words he's been waiting for.

"I remember."

Eric freezes, his whole body stilling around me. He stares down at me with eyes that get lost in mine.

"Everything?" He says the word slowly, inching towards me at a glacial place.

"Yeah. Were you ever going to buy a new toaster?" I smile up at him, but it's lost when his eyes narrow.

"I've been busy," he mumbles as he pulls me closer, until I'm pressed back against his chest. His skin is warm, slick with the bath bubbles. I watch his knees sink beneath the water now as he works himself around me.

"When did you remember?" he asks. His hands are busy now, they've wrapped back around my waist, anchoring me to him.

I try to answer him, but he's moved to place his lips on my neck. Rather than aggressively biting the skin until I squeak, he presses startlingly soft kisses there. He trails downwards in this maddeningly slow manner. He breaks the contact only to move my hair out of the way.

"Before you left. I wanted to tell you, but you were gone when I woke up." I say the words in a half-groan. He's kissing my jaw, taking his time as though he's memorizing the path he's taking. One of his hands is back in my hair, his iron grip tangled towards my nape.

"Sorry," he mutters. I can feel the shift in him, as though all the anger has slowly slipped away. It's replaced with something I can't quite place. All I know is he's no longer livid, and the relief is tremendous.

He kisses my temple, the act so gentle it's almost painful, and his head rests against mine for a moment. "Let's get you ready for bed."

 

 

A short while later, we are both clean and wrapped in fluffy dark towels. I'd reluctantly climbed out of the bathtub with Eric. I would have preferred to stay in there until the water turned cold, but Eric had other ideas, and probably some time constraints.

I walk towards the dresser, trying to decide just how dressed I need to be for bed, when he comes up beside me.

"Everly." He's looking at me intently. "Come here."

I take a step towards him, effectively closing the space between us. I watch the muscles beneath his inked skin tense, the maze-like pattern on his arms tightening as he prepares to say something. I meet his stare and his eyes reflect curiosity.

"Why did you step away from me? Back at the factionless compound," he asks me lowly. "Were you afraid that I would hurt you?"

I adjust the towel around myself and I shake my head at him. For a moment, I flash back to my final fear landscape. I can remember his horrified expression when he'd shown up as one of my fears. The evolution of our relationship had been at its peak; not only had I slept with him, I'd found myself feeling all sorts of things towards him. But I was never afraid of him.

"No. I'm not afraid you'll hurt me. I was overwhelmed by how angry you were, and afraid that you might not ever forgive me." I meet his stare, his slate eyes trained on me. "I could never be afraid of you, Eric."

He nods, his jaw tight and his stare moving somewhere to the side of me. He doesn't look particularly happy right now, despite his affection minutes ago. It's as though the thought had just crossed his mind, unwelcome in our quiet moment.

"I don't want to lose you either," I tell him softly, and I wonder if I'm imagining the flash of relief that crosses his face.

He nods sharply.

"You're to stay here. Unless I bring you with me." His words are tight, reinforcing his point from before.

I nod at him, wishing I had a better way of assuring him, but for now all I have is this.

"Good." He bends his head down and his lips touch mine, and it's hard to say anything else. I let myself kiss him for a moment, just enjoying the way his lips feel against my own. It hasn't been that long since I've kissed him, but it doesn't matter. My stomach drops in a pleasant way, and I feel myself sink against him. I listen to the way his breathing seems to deepen, and he moves himself fractionally closer.

"Forever," he adds, breaking apart just long enough to say the word. I lean back into him, not wanting to stop even for a second. I think back to all the times I've ever kissed him, every one of those moments burned into my mind with their importance. Sometimes kissing Eric seems far more intimate than anything I've ever done with him.

"Yes," I say as he pulls me closer. It doesn't take much before I'm flush against him, and he pulls me upwards until my feet leave the floor, the same way he did back in Amity.

He walks us back a few steps, and I find myself sitting down on the bed, pulling him on top of me. I don't have to undress him this time. His skin is pleasantly warm against my own, and the weight of him feels good as he presses me further into his bed. He meets my gaze for a heartbeat, and in this moment his eyes are the warmest I have ever seen them. "I won't lose you again."

It's not a question at all, but I nod, looping my hands around his neck.

He looks pleased at my answer. Eric takes a moment before he kisses my lips, his own warm and full against mine, and I feel one of his hands move to knock away the dark towel.

"I don't know what I would do…" He trails off as it falls to the side. His large hand slides up on my stomach, his fingers skimming over my ribs. "If something happened to you." His eyes blaze with a fierce, undefined need, his mouth finding mine again as his fingers graze higher. There's nothing rough in his touch; I feel his hand move to cup my breast, and I close my eyes.

Eric is well-versed in my body, but tonight he's slowed himself down as though he's never touched me before. I part my mouth as he intensifies the kiss, his tongue slipping between my lips. I grow warm all over, but he's just starting. I lose track of everything else except the feeling of him on top of me. He shifts slightly, and I can feel his hardness pressing against my thigh. It doesn't take him long to take off the towel from his hips, and I rejoice when I feel his bare skin against mine.

"I've missed you," he tells me, and I shove my hips upwards, wanting more friction between us. He gets the hint, grinning as he runs his nose along my jaw.

I wiggle impatiently.

He looks up to glance at me for a second, lazily skimming his fingers over my hip bones.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," I tell him. I move to thread my fingers through his hair, and he responds immediately, his kiss gentle again. I could melt beneath him, fizzling out blissfully into his sheets just from his kiss alone. One arm has settled to the side of me, working its way through my damp hair. The other is firmly clamped on my side, his fingers digging into my skin.

"I want you, Eric," I say when he breaks apart from me, moving to graze over my collarbone. His teeth scrape lightly over the bone, followed by his soft lips. When he's satisfied with that area, he moves lower, and my eyes close when he licks his way down my sternum.

"I know," he mumbles the words as his hand moves to hold me in place, his lips closing around one of my nipples. I can't help the groan that escapes me, the feeling of his wet mouth on my bare skin is electric. I can feel him pressing his hips downwards, grinding against the sheets, seeking out the same friction I wanted earlier.

In all of our nights together, I would never consider Eric to have rushed. He's always sought out what he wanted, and I've never been left unsatisfied by him. But this time, everything feels different. He's moving at a maddeningly slow pace, his lips trailing down my ribs as I try not to giggle, his nose following his mouth lazily over my hip bone, all while his hands hold me in place. He's working so slowly that I might just die from the anticipation.

Every time I glance down at him my stomach tightens up; I can see the wide span of his shoulders, the top of his hair curling wildly in several directions, and the curve of the muscle in his biceps. I watch him move lower, his movements soft and unhurried, but purposeful.

He pushes my legs wide apart, giving him room to move until I feel him kiss the inside of my thigh.

I could kill him.

He's driving me crazy, in the most gentle and tender way possible. He's smirking up at me, but it's hardly the usual smug grin that's across his face. This one has something behind it, something warmer than I'm used to seeing.

To my disappointment, he kisses down my leg, grasping my ankle firmly before he starts on the other side. He didn't bother to shave during our bath, and I can feel the scrape of his stubble against my skin. It's a pleasant feeling, and I can't help but breathily exhale his name when his mouth finally settles between my legs.

I swear he grins against me. Eric is far more experienced in most areas, and this is no exception. His mouth works slowly, lazily, teasingly. I can feel him lick upwards incrementally, and my abdomen tightens as do my thighs. I want to trap him there, his head between my legs, until I see stars. It feels beyond good, everything he's ever done has felt beyond good, but this is something else. He sucks gently, only removing his mouth to slide his fingers inside of me, and I can say nothing more than some garbled version of his name.

It's not long before the warmth in my stomach becomes burning hot, and I struggle not to writhe with his touch. I whine against him, urging him on, yanking hard on his hair to make him move faster, harder, anything. But he's determined to undo me himself, at his own pace.

"Eric." I would say his name through gritted teeth, but I can't think; my eyes open abruptly when he moves away from me. The red-hot feeling in my nerves is screaming at him, and I want to yank his head back to me. But he rises up on his knees, stroking himself as he watches me.

"Yes?" He says the words without any sort of patronizing or sneering tone; he's simply asking me a question. "Did you want me to stop?" I watch his hand stroke up and down his erection, his eyes never leaving mine. It's fascinating in a way; I'd never given much thought to Eric ever touching himself, and I wonder how many of his cold showers during my training were a weak attempt to curb his thoughts.

I shake my head at him, reaching for him and nearly knocking his hand away to replace it with my own. He tries to shove mine away, and it becomes very clear that he's focused on me.

"Let me touch you," I protest, and it doesn't take much more than that. My hand closes around him, his skin hot and swollen beneath my grasp. I like touching him, watching him react the way he does. I like that he lets himself lose a tiny bit of his control this way; his eyes close momentarily, and his lips part for a second.

I sit up, and he lets me push him back until he's reclined and I can climb on top of him. He stares up at me, his grey eyes so light they almost look faintly blue, and he smiles slightly as he reaches to brush my hair out of my eyes.

My heart clenches painfully as I settle onto his lap. He keeps his eyes on me, and his breathing is no longer as even as before. He reaches for me, crushing his lips to mine, one hand cupping the back of my head. He holds me in place against him, but there's nothing dominating about the action. It's as though he can't get close enough no matter how hard he tries.

I feel him spread his legs slightly, and push myself closer to him. I realize he's waiting for me to move; he's managed to keep himself mostly still, aside from the occasional uncontrolled jerk of his hips. I groan when his fingers move between my legs, trailing upwards, resuming where he left off before.

I lean forward, burying my face in his neck. I say his name against the darkest blocks on his neck, and my voice sounds like nothing more than a whimper.

"I love you." I've said it before, whispered it against his lips and during the blackest parts of the night, always seeking to assure him of just how much he means to me, has always meant to me.

Eric swallows, not slowing his fingers. He circles them teasingly, and I close my eyes at the sensation. The warm rush of pleasure is almost overwhelming now, and he strokes oh-so-slowly as I find myself arching into him. It's not until I find enough self-control to wrangle myself away from him that he stops, looking up at me in confusion.

"I want you, on top of me." I tell him urgently, climbing off his lap. He follows my lead as I lie back down, yanking him with me. I know this isn't his favorite position, but he makes no protest. He moves until he's between my legs, and it's only a matter of seconds before I feel him slide himself into me.

"Like this?" he grunts, his forehead against mine as I dig my nails into him.

"God, yes," I manage to answer, and I can tell he's trying hard to keep himself still for a moment. I tighten my grip on him, one hand holding the back of his head in place. He feels perfect, deliciously hot above me, and I move my hips to meet his when he finally moves.

"Everly," he sighs as he meets my stare, his eyes holding mine in place. I try to focus on him, the feel of his weight atop of me, the way he's thrusting into me, the way his pace is so much slower than normal. It's almost too much; he feels too good this way, warm and gentle, and it hits me then, right as I feel him kiss my jaw again.

It feels reminiscent of his birthday weekend: he's moving with the same slow, deliberate pace. He feels less like the rough, hulking leader of Dauntless who I first met, and more like someone I would call my lover. He presses his lips to my neck, placing a wet open-mouth kiss as I moan his name. I feel dizzied, my heart beating faster than ever, my blood rushing loudly through my veins. Eric has managed to consume me, this time in the most tender, gentle way possible.

"You feel so good," he groans as I hook one of my legs behind his, and I reach for his back. I skim my hands down the soft skin until I reach his ass, and I dig my fingers into his flesh, urging him on. It doesn't take much longer for either of us; I'm too far gone, too emotionally filled and too wonderfully pleased by him.

I say his name over and over, gasping for him as though he's the very air that I need to breathe.

I know he feels the same; I feel his back tense, the muscles tightening and his head falls forward as he quietly moans a string of words.

Mostly "I love you," over and over and over, until his hips stop and he collapses on top of me, still inside of me, until his breathing slows down.

 

 

I'm half asleep by the time he's ready to leave.

"I'll be back as soon as we're done. You do have my permission to come save me from Four." I can hear him talking, his voice low and rough, but I'm too sleepy to answer. His boots sound loud as they march across the floor, until I feel him kiss my forehead, his hands brushing my hair off my face then lingering for a moment to tangle in the strands.

 

 

It's the middle of the night when I wake up to the feeling of him sliding under the covers beside me.

It doesn't take long for his bare chest to be pressed up against my back, and his arm to drape around my waist. I let myself enjoy the feeling of him wrapped around me. I feel him kick my leg slightly, until he's happy with his new position. Only once he's finally settled against me does he sigh heavily, his head bent to rest against the back of mine.

"Did you and Four have fun?" I ask him, and he snorts in response.

"Tons."

I reach for his fingers, curling mine into his. "Did he go back to Tris's?"

Eric is quiet for a moment, and I can imagine him rolling his eyes or making some sort of unpleasant face. "I try not to think about what Four does at night," he answers me dryly and I smile, even though he can't see me.

"Eric?"

He's quiet for a moment before he answers. "Hm?" I can tell he's tired, and I realize this is the perfect opportunity to ask him something. I try to wiggle free so I can turn and face him, but his limbs are heavy, and he seems reluctant to move. "What are you doing?" he grunts.

"I want to look at you." He grudgingly moves his arm and his leg, and I turn to face him, sliding my leg back between his. He looks rather suspicious now, as though he's mentally preparing for what I'm going to ask him.

I peek up at him as I reach for his neck. One dark night forever ago, he let me run my fingers over him, exploring where I pleased without stopping me. It was rather surprising for him; in that moment he had made himself vulnerable to my perusal. I can remember tracing the blocks on his throat, touching the large piercings in his ears, sliding my fingers through his hair before I knew that he liked it. He lets me continue the same way now; my touch is unhurried and I lazily trace the sharpness of his jaw before I meet his stare.

"Would you have stayed mad at me forever?" I ask him, my fingers still on his skin.

"Maybe," he answers, his tone short after too many hours spent in a cramped meeting room with Four.

I feel warm under his intense stare, and it's mere seconds before I'm kissing him, all of my thoughts focused on him. I take delight in the way he responds, almost needily, as he moves himself over me, his leg moving between mine, and suddenly everything else is long forgotten.

 

 

It's still raining when I wake up.

Eric is still fast asleep next to me, his breathing slow and deep. I don't move a muscle; I lie beside him, listening to the sound of the rain against the windows. I lazily think how warm he is, and how good it feels to be here with him. How warm his bed is, how hot his skin is, how freaking hot his apartment is.

I heave the covers off of me, sitting up and feeling overheated. Eric's apartment is normally freezing. The first month of my training, I thought I might freeze to death before I'd be able to make it to the second stage. I'd discovered that he never turned his heat on, and it wasn't until I'd found myself sleeping in his bed that I realized why. Funny how I'd ended up seeking out more than just warmth from him.

I scrounge up his t-shirt from somewhere beside the bed and I make my way down the hallway. I stop at the thermometer, and I stare at the blinking temperature.

It's set to have the heat turn on, and I wonder how long he's had it on for. It doesn't matter; he's done his best to keep me here while I couldn't remember, but he needn't have worried. I wouldn't have gone anywhere.

 

 

Over breakfast I try to find out if Eric knows where Jeremy went. It struck me as odd that he wasn't at the meeting last night, but Eric shrugs indifferently and stares at me over his coffee mug. He hasn't been very open with what happened during the meeting with Max and Four, but I know not to pry too much. It's sort of a relief to have stayed behind, waking to make him breakfast before he heads out.

"Why didn't Jeremy come to your apartment?" I question him, my stare on him. He's stoically eating his pancakes and watching me with one eye.

"Who cares?" he announces. "If I had to hear one more time about how terrible Tris was at every aspect of their relationship, I'd kill him myself."

"She wasn't terrible!" I protest, buttering my toast. "That's mean of him. He should be quiet."

Eric smirks, and I can tell he doesn't really have feelings towards Tris and Jeremy's relationship either way. "He was obsessed with you, you know."

"What?" I nearly drop my knife, and Eric looks smug.

"You heard me. He was fascinated by everything you did. He didn't believe that you were really married to me." He looks gleeful now, happy to have won this nonexistent competition. "Sucks to be him," he chortles, shrugging his shoulders.

"But where is he?" I'm staring at Eric now, and he tilts his head in a way that tells me he had a hand in the answer.

"He's taking a break from his leadership training. Refocusing." Eric seems very pleased and he smiles widely at me. "He's working closely with Peter for the next month."

 

 

Arlene is thrilled to see me back in Dauntless, so much so that she gleefully informs me that she's cleared her afternoon when I walk in. Heading to the infirmary isn't exactly how I want to spend my free afternoon, but it's necessary. I need to decide, quickly, what I want to do. It isn't so much that I don't want to have a family with Eric, I'm just not sure if I want it right now.

While the idea is dreamy and the thought of Eric holding a baby is downright adorable, it's terrifying. I still want to complete my leadership training, and I want to spend time with Eric as my husband.

I hop up onto the exam room table and I smile warily as she waltzes in. I still can't quite place her relationship with Eric, but I do know she's very informed about him. It could probably work to my benefit to be on her good side, but in this moment she looks very pleased to see me.

She sets my chart to the side and pulls out a light before motioning for me to follow her movements. After a few seconds she's satisfied, and she sits down in front of me.

"How are you adjusting to life back in Dauntless?" She crosses one leg over the other, and I realize her scrubs are royal blue. I've never given much thought to her past, but there must be a reason she keeps such close tabs on Eric. "Is everything going well between you and Eric?"

I swing my feet back and forth and nod my head. "Really well. I'm happy to be back. And Eric and I are good. He's happy that I can remember everything."

Arlene nods, flashing her eyes up to mine. "I'm sure. Now, I assume you two have resumed your normal sexual activity? He seemed awfully frustrated when I saw him a week ago."

I feel myself grow hot, and it's clear that she's just as nosy as ever.

I nod at her, trying to not to stare at the smug look on her face. "He's fine now."

She stares at me critically before her face relaxes. "And you've decided to have a baby?" She looks delighted, as though everything she's ever said is coming true. "Congratulations."

"Wait, no…I mean, we kind of talked about it." I fumble for the words, wondering just how to explain to her how I feel. It's not like I owe her an explanation, but she's staring at me like I do.

"Uh-huh."

"I actually came down here to talk to you about starting some form of birth control today. Or maybe having some sort of backup method until everything settles down." I let my words trail off, and I try hard not to look right at her. She has the same intense stare that Eric does, but she's shaking her head.

"You'll have to wait four weeks." She smiles at me, and she still looks smug.

"What? Why do I need to wait four weeks?" I ask her. I sit up straighter, pulling my sweater around me. "What am I supposed to do for four weeks?"

Arlene smiles, the same pleased smile that I've seen before. "How many times have you and Eric celebrated your return, my dear?" She's reached for the papers beside her, and I watch her scrawl quickly, making a few notes.

"Um, a few," I tell her, trying hard not to look at her. Out of everyone in Dauntless, Arlene is the last person I want to discuss my sex life with. When I don't say anything else, she throws me a look of disbelief. I scowl.

"Then a few more after that."

"How about today?" She peers over her glasses at me, and I chew on the inside of my cheek. "I mean, I know you still have the entire evening ahead of you." She pauses, and I frown because she's right. "I'll just mark you down to return in four weeks, for accuracy's sake. If you get your period before then, you can return sooner. You'll take a pregnancy test, and barring no more head traumas, we'll write you a script for either your next set of shots or prenatal vitamins."

"So I could have gotten pregnant just within the last couple of days? And I have to just wait around another four weeks to find out?" I stare at her, my mind whirling. I'd been planning on asking Eric to go running with me, and I thought maybe I could see if Max would let me start helping with Four's class again. I hadn't planned on anything happening so soon.

She nods and I watch her file my chart away.

"What do I do until then? What if I'm not pregnant?" I ask her.

She stands and smiles, something wide and bright.

"Ask your husband how he feels about condoms."

 

 

He raises an eyebrow at me and shakes his head.

"I'm not into that," he tells me flatly.

"Just like you aren't into marriage proposals," I retort, starting to feel cranky. All the joy of being able to remember my husband is quickly dwindling thanks to my own inability to keep my hands off of him. Our last night together is still fresh in my mind, and all I want is to recreate it again. I want him back on top of me, I want his large hands running up my sides and holding me in place while he says my name.

Eric huffs in response.

"A few days ago you had zero concerns about the outcome of us sleeping together. In fact, you told me not to stop." Eric is staring at me, his grey eyes lit up with satisfaction, and he widens his stance. "I refuse to use a condom while I'm having sex with my wife."

He emphasizes both condom and wife, and I know he's not about to relent. I cross my arms in front of my chest and he grins, declaring himself the winner of this discussion.

"And we all know you have zero self-control, so don't even think about pretending you could hold out for four weeks." He sounds jubilant; sometimes Eric is too smart for his own good. He smiles cockily at me, tilting his head to the side and making sure he brushes against me as he walks past me.

"Guess you should have accepted the injection when you had the chance," he throws out over his shoulder.

He's almost to the bedroom door, so he misses the wadded up paper from the infirmary that I throw at him.

 

 

The message is broadcast every thirty minutes.

It means that every half hour I'm forced to see Evelyn's face flash in front of my eyes. The only upside to it is that Eric's face usually follows right after hers. I watch him recite the speech that calls for each faction to be on the lookout for Evelyn, but I can't help but think that it means she's out there, somewhere, waiting.

 

 

Things seem to slide back into normalcy in a mostly uneventful way.

All of a sudden my keycards work, my cell phone is filled with names that mean something to me, I can make my way through the hallways without getting hopelessly lost, and Eric turns his heat off.

I smile as I trek down to the training room. Today I rejoin Four for the remainder of the training class. Thanks to all the disruptions caused by the events with Colton and the factionless, they've only just completed the first half of combat training. Four looks pleased when I walk through the door. I spent a good part of my morning talking with Max about resuming the training, and he agreed it would be easiest for me to start up again as if nothing had happened. He told me to head down there and feel it out. If I didn't feel right, I could find something else to work on.

I didn't think it would be a problem.

"Good to have you back." He grins at me, that crooked smile that Tris has a fondness for, and I grin back at him. He hands me a list of names, and I'm pleased when they all look familiar.

"You want to take half and I'll take the other half? I thought they could practice for thirty minutes before lunch. Then we'll start the fights and put up their interim rankings." Four's voice is serious and I nod, trying to glance at the papers in my hands. His handwriting is a chicken scrawl all over the papers, and I miss Eric's perfectly neat penmanship.

I call out the names on my list and watch as they obediently make their way towards me. There's no doubt that they know who I am. My abrupt departure and then sudden return was no secret. Most of them stare at me with great interest, as though I've lived through something they've only heard rumors about. In a way, I have. My experience in Dauntless hasn't been typical, but it has been an exercise in bravery and adventure. Standing here on the training mats while they mill in front of me, it's hard to remember my life in Amity before all of this.

It doesn't take long for them all to line up. I match them up randomly, paying no attention to the stats Four has given me. I want to see how they fight without any preconceived notions. When I'm happy with how they look, I give them the signal to start, and they obediently begin to spar. I'm impressed with what they know; Four has taught them well, and I vaguely wonder how he's done it all by himself.

"Oh good, they almost look ready for some real fighting."

Eric's words echo across the training room, and I turn around, unable to stop the smile that crosses my face. He's stalking across the floor with his head held high, his face unimpressed. I like him like this; he's dressed as though he's about to come train the class, but I know there's nothing further from the truth.

"Hi," I tell him as he approaches and he reaches for me, one hand sliding around my waist.

"I can't wait until you're done working down here," Eric says the words disdainfully, fixing his gaze to mine. "Hi, Everly." He stares down at me intensely, and my stomach drops the same way it did when he first trained me. "What time does our number one traitor let you break for lunch?"

Since we returned from the factionless compound, the civility between Eric and Four had dwindled down to almost nothing. Despite Four's active resistance to his mother's plans, the bottom line was he still had been involved in them, up to the point of training their army. Eric didn't readily offer up forgiveness, and Evelyn's absence had pushed Eric into blaming Four for her actions.

Eric had been rather vocal about it to me, his words harsh and cold, but my silence on the issue had shut him up. He knew I was mad about Four's involvement in it. After all, it had led to my kidnapping, but there was nothing any of us could do about it now. He'd already apologized to me several times, and he'd looked uneasy when there had been no news of Evelyn's whereabouts over the past few days.

It didn't really matter.

We'd find her. She couldn't hide forever.

"I have another thirty minutes before Four and I are due to take a break," I tell him, smiling up at his grumpy face. He narrows his eyes at Four's figure in the distance before he looks down at me.

"Come with me now," he demands, and I grin at him. I find him strangely charming right now, despite the fact that he's asking me to leave Four and his class alone. A few of the initiates near us are watching him carefully, half-fearful and half-intrigued. He looks especially intimidating right now as he stands next to me, critically watching their every move.

"I wish." I feel the hand encircling my waist pull me closer to him.

"You know I outrank him, right? I could always order you to come eat lunch with me," he hisses in my ear, his lips grazing the outside of it.

"You could," I tell him, trying to keep my eye on the class. "But then I wouldn't be able to fill you in on all the gossip."

I feel him grin behind me, and he kisses my neck sneakily before I feel him release me.

"Fine. I'll still be hungry in half an hour. I'll meet you then."

He throws one final threatening look at the class before he walks away, haughty as ever.

 

 

I spend my lunch break in Eric's office, mostly on his lap with my lips against his. It's not until his phone rings shrilly that I realize I have mere minutes left to eat my lunch before I'm due back in the training room.

I kiss him once more, even though he's talking to someone, and I catch the very end of his conversation.

He says the words rather tiredly, as though it's the last thing he'd ever like to think about. I think I'm done with dinners for a while.

 

 

I bump into Karl in the Pit.

"Karl, sorry!" I smile at him, but it falters when I realize he's scowling at me. "What's wrong?"

"You got me in major trouble," he snaps. He points his finger at me, but it's not overly threatening. "I told you Eric would be pissed if I took you out of Dauntless."

Crap. I was hoping that Eric would have forgotten about that.

"I'm sorry." I chew the side of my lip. "What did he do?"

"What did he do? Well, Everly, I'll tell you what he did." Karl smiles, and it's the kind of smile that tells me he's very unamused with the situation. "He assigned me to work security for the community center on the third floor." He crosses his arms in front of him, irritation creeping over him. His eyebrows knit together and he looks slightly red.

I shrug. "What's the community center on the third floor?" For a moment I panic, thinking maybe I can't remember. Maybe my memory is failing, because I honestly don't recall ever visiting any such place.

Karl stares at me for a moment before he grits his teeth. "It's the daycare facility for children who are under four. I'm supposed to spend the next month patrolling the floor and helping out if they need it."

I blink, wondering how on earth Eric came up with that. "I'm sorry. I'll talk to him."

Karl looks unimpressed and he shakes his head. "I think I'm going to stay away from you and your husband for a little while." He rubs the back of his neck for a moment. "No offense."

I frown at him, but he's already walking away, probably heading to the third floor. I can only imagine how pissed Eric is at him, and I don't doubt that anything I say will fall on deaf ears.

I make my way towards the elevators to head home.

As I push the button for the floor I need, I wonder if there's a way I can tell Eric to go easier on Karl. I sigh, realizing probably not. Even though it was due to my insistence, Karl disobeyed his direct orders and Eric will not forget that. Karl's actually kind of lucky; working in the daycare center is probably safer than being in Eric's direct line of sight. The elevator door dings much earlier than expected, and I jerk my head up as the doors open.

My eyes widen as Eric's dad steps through, his stare finding my own.


	36. Fathers and Zombies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!

Eric's father smiles widely at me. He looks more relaxed without his wife beside him, but I still can't help but want to shove past him out of this elevator. He holds his palms up as he takes a step into the elevator, as if to reassure me he won't attack.

I look up at him warily, and I smile despite my urge to flee.

"Hello, Everly," he greets me warmly, as though he wasn't present at a dinner during which his wife would have gladly leapt across the table and strangled me.

"Hello." It occurs to me I don't even know his first name. Eric's never mentioned his parents as anything other than his mother and father, though I most certainly learned that his mother's name is Blythe; I shudder when she comes to mind. I step aside to let Eric's father go past me, and to my dismay he stops right beside me.

"What floor are you headed to?" He's reaching for the buttons on the panel, and I freeze. I'm headed home, but part of me wants to tell him something else. Maybe I should take him straight to Eric. He must sense my hesitation because he shrugs. "I'm headed to see Eric. I know he's off work soon, so I had thought I'd drop by his apartment on my way home."

I stare at him curiously, wishing I had some idea of why he's here. Dauntless is hardly just around the corner; there's no way he was just leaving work and decided to stop by. The only thing I can think of is maybe he has some idea about Evelyn and he's here to share it with Eric.

I weigh my options quickly. I could direct him to Eric's office or I could have him follow me back to the apartment. Neither of these seems too great, but I choose the latter.

"I'm headed home."

He nods his head and pushes the button for the ninth floor. I can tell he's been here before, and he knows exactly where Eric lives.

"Does your wife know you're here?" I ask him the words delicately, wondering if he'll answer me. Aside from knowing what he does, I barely know a single thing about him. I'm pleased when he grins and shakes his head.

"No," he announces, in the same way Eric does when he's telling me something particularly delectable. "She does not."

"Oh, good," I tell him, and I'm relieved when the elevator door dings.

Eric's father follows me to the apartment and he watches as I unlock the door. I know full well that Eric isn't here, and he won't be for at least another hour. His father glances around with the same inquisitive look that Kacie had, his eyes taking in every detail of the apartment. I look around, pretending I've never been in here before, trying to see what he sees.

The large dark couch still looks like no one ever sits on it. Except now the overly soft grey blankets are moved a bit to the side, and I can almost see the spot where I've spent many nights curled against Eric. His laptop sits atop the coffee table, and his bookshelves are neatly lined with books that are both mine and his.

It doesn't look overly lived in, but the space is definitely warmer than the first day I stepped through the door.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask his father, trying to think of a sneaky way to figure out his name.

"Sure. Whatever you've got will be fine." He smiles, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looks out of place here. His dark blue suit is finely tailored, and his dress shirt is starched to perfection. It's a far cry from our dark, Dauntless colors. He's still looking around, and he finally takes a seat at the dining room table.

I fumble in the cabinets for a moment, standing on my toes to reach the higher shelves. Eric has always placed all of the glasses at a height more convenient for him, and I make a note to move them later. After searching through the refrigerator, I find nothing that I can picture Eric's father drinking. Serving him a soda seems too cheesy, so I settle for making him coffee.

"Does Eric know you're here?" I'm measuring out the water and I can almost guess the answer.

He shakes his head. "I stop by occasionally. I like to surprise him."

I push the button on the coffee machine to start it and I eye him carefully. Eric doesn't seem to be someone that's big on surprises, but I'll let his father deal with him.

"Should I call Eric?" I stand still in the kitchen, trying to decide what to do. "I don't know if he'll be home anytime soon."

He nods at me, and I realize he's bent over and tapping away at his phone. "Sure, I'd love to stay for dinner."

I try to keep a pleasant expression on my face. Great. It's not quite what I asked him, but I'm not sure how to get out of this situation. I decide I might as well find something to make, and I'm relieved when his father takes a phone call.

Nearly twenty minutes later, I'm waiting for noodles to boil when Eric's father stands up. He's been chatting away with someone named Greg, pleasantly discussing the proper technique to use when sawing someone's skull open. I find two jars of spaghetti sauce and observe him glancing around the room.

"I'll be right back," he tells me. I'm not sure where he's going, but he seems to know where he's headed. He takes off towards our bedroom, and I focus on opening up the jar. I'm getting close to bashing the jar against Eric's pristine counters when I hear the door open, and I look up to watch Eric stalk through. He throws me a funny look, probably at my sudden attempt at cooking.

"You're making dinner?" He sounds incredulous, and I try not to be insulted. Aside from making him eggs and toast after he got shot, I haven't exactly wooed him with my cooking skills.

"Um, yes. I am," I tell him brightly. He walks around the counter, and I turn around to face him as he stops in front of me.

"Why?" He's looking down at me, amusement flashing across his face. It doesn't take long for his hands to find my waist, and seconds later I'm pulled flush against him. "Did you break something else?"

I don't get a chance to respond. He kisses me soundly, and one of his hands slips beneath my hair to cup my neck and tilt my head up towards him. I give into him easily, and I nearly forget that his father is here, somewhere in our bedroom.

"Thank you. We'll be in touch."

At the sound of his father's voice, Eric breaks apart from me, and his lips are still parted when he stares down at me. His eyes flash with disbelief, and he raises one eyebrow at me. "You didn't tell me we had company." He turns slightly, and I can tell the exact moment when he realizes his father is here. His whole spine seems to force itself into place.

He looks back to me, smiling at me in a way that tells me I might soon be joining Karl.

 

 

This dinner goes slightly better than the last one.

Eric eyes his father intensely, watching him eat dinner as though he finds the act highly suspicious. I don't doubt that it's rare his father stops by, but judging by their silence, neither of them is willing to acknowledge this visit is out of the ordinary.

"So, Everly. You're working on completing your leadership program?" His father says the words casually, and I turn to look at him. I can't remember if he should know that information or not, but I'm sure it's printed somewhere.

"I am. Right now I'm helping with the newest training class. It feels really good to be back with the initiates," I tell him.

Eric throws me a dirty look, and I know he'd much prefer I stop working with Four's class. It's a sore point with him. Resuming my position means I am back working with Four, something that irritates Eric. I'd told him a few times to let it go. Four is obviously on Eric's side when it comes to Evelyn, and Eric could stand to cut him a little bit of slack.

I ignore Eric's look. I'm determined to finish this round of training. I feel like it would be a great accomplishment after everything that's happened in these past months. I'd also come to realize that I wouldn't mind helping take over more of the classes someday, maybe permanently. It seems like something that's a little more me than sitting behind a desk all day.

"It got pushed back a bit while I was gone, but they're doing really well now," I point out.

Eric's father smiles at me, and there's a hint of something behind it. As if he's sort of proud of me, but he has no real reason to be. "I think that's fantastic. There's something about helping shape the minds of your future members that's very fulfilling."

Eric makes a grunting sound. I smile at him sweetly before turning back to his father. "Thank you," I tell him, pleased that he's on my side, "I agree."

We eat silently for a moment before Eric takes a very large drink of whatever he's poured into the fancy-looking glass. It smells strong, and I have a feeling it's helping to keep him quiet.

He probably should have drunk more of it.

"Why are you here again?"

I cringe, but Eric's father looks unfazed. He raises his eyebrows for a moment before he sets his fork down.

"I wanted to apologize for your mother. I know dinner did not go very well." He pauses, and he looks a tad bit guilty for a moment. "I thought maybe the three of us could have a few dinners together. Get to know each other."

I stare up at him, surprised to find that I don't hate the idea in the slightest. He had taken the time to come over here, and he'd made an effort to apologize for Blythe. I briefly wonder if she's back in Erudite, and what she will think of him leaving to come here. I don't think mingling between factions is normal, but then again, nothing having to do with Eric is ever normal.

"I think that's a really good idea," I finally tell him, smiling brightly.

I watch Eric's face darken, and he shakes his head.

"It's not really." He leans back in his chair, and he tightens his jaw. "I don't really need you here as a spy for Blythe."

His father shakes his head. "You know that's not why I'm here."

"It's exactly why you're here," Eric snaps. He looks like he's quickly losing his temper. "You can't tell me she's not going to grill you the minute you walk in the door. I told you to leave us alone."

I watch his father's shoulders drop the slightest bit, as if he's suddenly defeated. "Eric." He stops and he sighs. "I'm not your mother. I'm not here to gather any sort of information. I just want to know my daughter-in-law."

Eric says nothing.

"You didn't invite us to the wedding. I'd like a chance to at least celebrate with you two." He takes a sip of his coffee. "Or, at the very least, I'll meet Everly for lunch now and then. You've had her all to yourself for some time now."

I watch as Eric's eye twitches and I can tell he thinks poorly of his father's plan. I look up at him, catching his cold stare and all I can think of is my own father. I would have loved for him to meet Eric as my husband, for my father to have known Eric as more than just a leader of Dauntless.

"We didn't really have a wedding that anyone would have been able to attend. I certainly think we could do dinner," I press him. I watch as Eric seems to grit his teeth, but I refuse to back down. His father doesn't seem to be quite the villain here, and one day Eric will regret pushing him away.

Or maybe he won't.

But I refuse to let the opportunity slip away. I tilt my head to the side; I can feel Eric's dad watching us, analyzing the silent power struggle going on. This isn't anything I'd normally argue with him on; after all, this is Eric's father, and thus his decision. But the loss of my own father keeps replaying in my mind, and I hope Eric relents just a tiny bit.

There's a long pause, and I watch as Eric slouches in his chair.

He finally sighs, his cold gaze falling to the dark liquid in his glass. "Fine. Two dinners." He says the words crankily and I grin, feeling triumphant. I'm sure I'll hear about this later, but for now we've made some progress.

When I turn to look at his father, he's smiling widely. He looks much happier now that his plan has Eric's reluctant approval.

"Excellent. I look forward to them." I can tell he's pleased, as though Eric has offered him more than eating exactly two meals with us. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Eric shift in his chair, silently sulking.

"Good. I can't wait to hear all of Eric's childhood secrets," I tell him, delighted by the possibilities.

He nods, but Eric immediately vetoes my idea.

"Not a chance," he barks. He glares at me over the table, and I realize I'm pushing my luck here.

"Fine," I tell him. "Maybe he could join us to celebrate our wedding anniversary."

Eric's face changes slightly and I can't quite catch the emotion on his face. I don't know if it has to do with all this talk of our wedding, but he looks a little less certain of himself in this moment. I want to tell him not to worry; the way I'd married Eric was the only way I could have ever imagined marrying him, and I wouldn't change a second of it.

 

 

Eric is busy pulling his shirt off over his head when I walk by. He neatly places it on the dresser, and then stops to stare at me. I can feel his eyes following me as I make my way towards his bed.

"Would you and Landon have had a big wedding?" He asks the question with a forced casualness, as though this is something he and I would not hesitate to discuss. Ironic, seeing as how Eric didn't even bother to tell me I was marrying him. I can tell he's bothered by the fact that he's curious, as though he can't control his desire for the information.

I wrinkle my nose and nod my head. "Yes. I mean, if I had wanted to marry Landon. Which I never wanted to do," I point out. "But typically, Amity has large weddings." I shrug, reaching to pull the covers back. "They never turn down the opportunity to celebrate anything."

He rolls his eyes.

I slide beneath our dark grey sheets, closing my eyes in exhaustion. I still have way too many days of training left this week before I'm free for the weekend. Two days off sounds heavenly, and I can hardly wait.

"Eric." I can hear him making his way towards the bed, but I keep my eyes closed. "What's your dad's name?" There are more questions burning in my mind, but I figure I'll start small. Especially since I'm not currently on top of him.

I feel the bed shift under his weight as he climbs in next to me.

"Daniel," he announces, lying down beside me. "Why?"

"I don't think you ever told me."

"It must have slipped my mind." He doesn't sound overly enthused, but I'm not worried. He's agreed to the dinners, and Eric has always kept his word.

"When we will see him again?" I can feel myself falling asleep, but I'm trying to stay awake long enough to hear his answer.

"You just saw him. You want him to come back for dessert?" Now he sounds grouchy. I shake my head, and I ignore his grumpiness.

"Goodnight, Eric," I tell him. I can feel myself drifting off beneath his warm sheets.

"Goodnight, Everly." He says my name quietly, and it sounds almost wistful.

 

 

"Any word from Max?"

Four and I are standing behind the initiates, watching them rather intently flip through their scores. It had been my idea to show them how they were being ranked, and just as I suspected, some of them were shocked to discover they were actually being scored on everything they'd learned so far.

I shake my head no. "Eric said every faction is on high alert."

"You alright?" Four asks me, and I nod at him, knowing exactly why he's asking.

There's been no sign of Evelyn. Either she's done a very good job of hiding herself and her army, or she's left the city. I can't imagine her taking all of them beyond the wall, but maybe she had no other choice. Maybe she's too afraid of everyone coming after her. Eric's message is still running every half hour, and I still glare when I see her face pop up.

Four scratches the back of his neck and he watches as two of the tallest boys in the class make their way towards us. "These two are a huge pain in the ass." He's trying to sound easygoing and act like things are normal, but I know better. It's easy to tell that Four feels somewhat responsible for everything that happened with Evelyn.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You want to take the rankings home with you tonight? You could go through all my notes and let me know what you think. I figure we could post them on Friday, and then you can enjoy your weekend."

I nod. "You and Tris doing anything?" I watch the way the tips of his ears turn red, and I get the impression Tris and Four will be doing a lot of things this weekend.

"I'm not sure," he mutters, taking a step towards the girl who's heading towards us. She's cradling her wrist awkwardly, and I feel a twinge of sympathy that she'll be forced to go see Arlene.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," I tease Four as I walk away, heading towards the stack of papers he placed on the bench.

 

 

"What is that?" I sit up in bed, tilting my head at the large screen that's mounted across from the bed.

Eric and I have watched a lot of videos and movies in here, but this might be the grossest one so far. The thing on the screen looks like it was once a person, but now its skin is rotting off and it lurches around with its arms extended, prowling for its next victim.

"It's a zombie." Eric's answer is distracted. He's got one hand on the tablet that's propped up on his knee, and one hand resting on the pillows behind me. "It was a show about people who try to survive in a world overrun by them." He shifts slightly before I feel him tug on my hair.

"He's the leader." He motions to the screen with his free hand, and I take a peek at his tablet. He's reading an email from Max. I try to read it, but he clicks out of it before I can catch too much of the lengthy message. Eric's been quiet lately, and I can't pinpoint the source of his irritation. Luckily for me, he'd been more than happy to climb into bed with me when I asked if he wanted to watch something.

"Do they all live?" I ask him, turning to stare back at the screen. There's a dark-haired man leading the group, frantically making his way through the crowd of zombies.

"I haven't watched them all," he mutters. His fingers graze up and down my spine, slowly making their way up to my neck. It makes me shiver, and he stops once they curl into my hair.

"Do you know what next Saturday is?" Eric says the words with mock cheerfulness.

"My day off?" I answer, watching the dark-haired man stab the zombie through his skull. My eyes widen when he pulls the knife out and quickly moves onto the next one.

"It's the Annual Leadership Dinner."

I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He looks haughty, and I feel my cheeks turn red when I think back to the last one. Once Tris had let it slip that I would be going with Eric, I'd spent the entire week waiting for him to ask me. I'd even woken up to him on top of me, his hand down my pants in payback for my own little attempt at getting to know him.

"Should I ask you the same way I asked you last year?" I can hear the smirk in his voice, and I can't help but giggle.

"I can only hope you will," I tell him, but I keep my eyes on the screen.

"Maybe tomorrow. I'll give you time to clear your calendar."

His voice has taken on the same tone it had a year ago, rough and scratchy, and I shiver as he moves to press his nose into my neck.

 

 

On Wednesday, Eric seems preoccupied.

He kisses me goodbye as we part to go our separate ways, but my heart sinks when he doesn't look back at me. He marches towards the stairs, and I realize he's dressed rather militantly today. His jacket looks stiffer than normal, and even his haircut seems sharper.

He throws the door open and stomps down the stairs before I can think too much of it. I sigh and continue my trek to the training room.

 

 

I realize it's been almost a year since I married Eric.

I stare into the restroom mirror, watching my reflection carefully. I still look the same, at least according to me. My hair is still long and dark, and I'm still just as pale as Eric. There is nothing that screams Dauntless about me, aside from the fact that I've managed to survive an intense year.

I smile at myself, pleased with the decisions I've made that led me here.

 

 

I meet Karl for lunch, and I try hard to keep a straight face when he ambles into the mess hall.

He's dressed for his normal patrol, but he looks rough. His hair sticks up like someone has been yanking on it, and there's something dark smeared on his cheek. Up close, I realize it's peanut butter, or perhaps chocolate. Maybe both.

He rubs his hands over his face as he flops into the seat next to me.

"Hey."

"Hi, Karl." I sound far too chipper for his current state. He grimaces and looks at the plate in front of him. I'd taken the liberty of getting both of us some pizza for lunch. I'd bumped into him on my way to the training room, and asked him if he wanted to join me during his break. He'd looked at me like I was insane; he'd finally relented when I'd told him Eric wasn't here.

Eric is in Erudite today, and I can only imagine he is sitting in on a meeting about their newest leader. So far no name had been announced, but they have to pick someone, and it should be any day now.

"God, this sucks. Can you please tell Eric that I'm sorry? Really sorry. It wasn't even my idea for you to leave. I told you I didn't want to take you and Tris." He groans his words and he looks up at me pathetically. "I can't take it. The daycare center needs help every day, the entire time I'm there. All the kids do is climb on me, and yesterday someone threw up on me." He reaches for pizza. "I'd rather do anything, and I mean anything, than spend one more day there."

"Sorry." I shrink down in my seat a bit, feeling guilty all over again. I'd learnt my lesson well. Crossing Eric had been a really dumb idea, but involving others had been flat out stupid. "I'll talk to him."

"Thanks." Karl looks slightly better at the thought, and he sits up straighter. "Did you hear Jeremy's been missing for two days now?"

I almost drop my pizza.

"What?" I stare at him, my stomach feeling like someone has filled it with lead. "He's missing?"

Karl swallows down his pizza. "Peter came looking for me to see if I could fill his shift. He said Jeremy only showed up to the first three and he's missed the last two."

I stare at him.

All I can think of are Eric's words, his mocking announcement that Jeremy had been obsessed with me. I feel hot suddenly, thinking of the way Jeremy had cornered me to ask if I was pregnant, the way he'd zeroed in on my relationship with Eric as though it were his job, the way he'd attempted to pick my brain for everything I knew about Dauntless.

The way he'd dumped Tris the minute I'd returned to Dauntless.

"Everly, are you okay? It's not that big of a deal. He's a dick anyway. Peter said he'd ask Eric if I could resume my normal job since we're kind of short now." He looks at me with a peculiar expression on his face. "Everly?"

"I think he was helping them," I tell him, my voice sounding far away in my own ears. "I think he was helping Evelyn." I stare at the food on my plate. "Jeremy must have been her informant."

Karl shoots me a look of disbelief. "Are you sure? I mean sure, he was weird. But an informant? He's pretty boring."

"I need to tell Eric."

Karl throws his hands up and shakes his head furiously. "Fuck, no. I'm not taking you to Eric. I don't care if Jeremy storms through that door right now and performs a dance routine about double-crossing Dauntless. I'm not leaving this spot."

I fold my arms over my chest, ignoring his outburst. "Trust me, I've learned my lesson. I'll just call Eric."

Karl stares at me with some sort of side-eyed glare. "Everly, I think you're really cool, and you'll be a great leader someday. But don't you think Eric already knows? I mean, he is one of the leaders here. There isn't much that gets by him."

I look over at Karl, and he's tilted his head at me. "Eric keeps close tabs on anyone that's crossed him. I'm sure he's well aware that Jeremy has gone missing."

I relax the tiniest bit. He's right, of course. There's no reason Eric wouldn't know he was missing, and I don't need to panic over nothing. "Maybe Jeremy fell off the fence."

Karl grins and snorts with laughter. "I wish."

Our lunch is over much faster than I would have liked. Four appears out of nowhere, his hands on his hips, and stands behind Karl. "We're due back in ten minutes. I thought you and I could walk back together and go over the plans for this afternoon." He glances down at Karl and nods at him. "You doing alright up there?"

Karl shrugs. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

Four smiles at him, a sort of sympathetic grin, and he shakes his head. "Good luck, Karl."

 

 

I tell Four about Jeremy, and he comes to an abrupt halt in the hallway, nearly causing me to crash into him. He cranes his head down at me, and he looks taken aback.

"You think he was helping Evelyn?" I can tell his brain is working furiously. His whole face seems to tense up at the idea. "I've never seen him there before…" He trails off and I nod my head.

"It just seems to make sense. I don't know why he would vanish all of a sudden. He couldn't be that mad about working with Peter." We're standing in the middle of the hallway, and my voice seems to echo.

"Unbelievable." I can hear the irritation in his words. "I really hope that's not the case."

"Do you think Eric knows? Karl said he's sure that Eric's already been alerted."

Four sighs. "I'm sure he does. He's obviously not too worried about it since you're still here."

Four's response makes me feel a little better. If Eric thought Jeremy was a threat, I'd have been forced to either stay out of sight or Eric would have ordered me to stay by his side. He hadn't insisted I do either.

Four stares at me remorsefully for a while before he speaks. "Everly, I'm really sorry for what happened to you."

"It's not your fault," I answer. Four has apologized to me a few times since I've been back. His involvement with Evelyn was ill-advised to say the least, but he's not responsible for the choices she made or which people she used to execute her scheme. "Jeremy obviously had his own agenda."

"Everly." He says my name heavily, and I can tell he isn't too happy with the idea of Jeremy missing. "You realize none of this looks too great, especially for me. I was the one who started helping Evelyn, thinking I was doing something right. Jeremy's involvement just makes everything worse."

"You had nothing to do with Jeremy, so don't try and take any blame for it," I tell him firmly. "And we should go. We're going to be late for our own class."

He nods at me, but I can tell he's still very heated over Jeremy's disappearance.

 

 

I text Eric while the class is busy punching each other's faces.

He doesn't reply right away, and I chew on my nails until the phone buzzes in my hand.

I glance down at his reply and sigh with relief when I read it.

_I know he's gone._

_Don't leave Dauntless, or Karl will be promoted to head of the daycare center._

_I'll be home to you in an hour. Don't attempt to make dinner again._

_Eric_

 

 

Four approaches me towards the end of the day, asking me what I'm doing after class is done. I have the vague impression he thinks I'm going to try to find Eric.

"I'm going to dinner with Tris," I tell him, trying to keep one eye on the class. My words aren't entirely untrue. In just the last few minutes, Eric sent a text to inform me that he'd be back later than he'd expected, so I texted back and told him I'd eat with Tris. I figured I would find Tris as soon as I was done and see if she was available. We could head to Eric's office and try to search for Jeremy's file, and then she and I could eat dinner together. I could satisfy my own curiosity while seeing what information Tris could offer up, and I wouldn't have to step foot outside of Dauntless.

"Do you want to eat dinner with us?" I ask him.

Four shakes his head no. "Thank you, but I'm working in the control room for a few hours tonight. If either of you need anything, you can find me there."

"Thanks, Four." I want to tell him that I appreciate his concern, but he's already walking away, tense shoulders and all.

 

 

A half hour later I'm sitting in Eric's office chair, typing away on his computer. Tris is flipping through the folders on his desk, her face curious as she rifles through one in particular.

"Why does Eric have a report on the cafeteria budget?" She holds up a paper that's lined with several charts and graphs. It looks far more complicated than one would expect for a place that serves unidentifiable food most of the time.

I shrug at her. "Who knows? He probably reads it for fun."

It takes a few tries, but I finally find the kind of information I'm looking for. Having Eric's password has turned out to be quite handy; I can search through all kinds of records and reports. I find one that's a list of all active and inactive leaders. My name is on the page, listed under Leader-in-Training, with Jeremy's beneath it. His name is listed as inactive; I'm sure Eric took great joy in changing his status.

I click on Jeremy's name, not really sure what I should be looking for.

His profile pops up, along with a link to his file in the Dauntless Census.

"Did Jeremy ever tell you anything about himself that was really personal?" I glance over at her, and she's engrossed in another file.

"Does Eric really care about this stuff? Or is he just required to read through it?" She sets down the file and finally turns her attention to me. "He told me a few things. He had a big family, he was from Candor. He really wanted to be a leader here."

She frowns suddenly. "He didn't like that you were in Eric's leadership class. He thought it wasn't fair, he said you were only in it because Eric liked you." She walks over to stand behind me. "He didn't like any of the other leaders besides Eric. He thought they were all way too lenient. He told me a few times that he thought Max let everyone get away with murder."

None of what she's telling me is groundbreaking, but it does support my theory that something is fishy about him. Most Dauntless have respect for their leaders, whether they agree with their decisions or not.

"Come to think of it, he was obsessed with Eric. He told me a few times that Eric was the only one who knew what being a leader was really about."

I scroll down the page. "That's weird. I got the impression Eric was annoyed by Jeremy. But he never really mentioned him."

Tris nods, and she points to the small paragraph listed below Jeremy's name. "Jeremy wasn't really well-liked among the leaders. They thought he was a little too eager to get through his training program. He ranked really well in his class, but I don't remember ever hearing anything about him."

"Four told me he didn't really know him." I click on the next page, and I'm rewarded with a photo of Jeremy standing beside Max and Harrison. He doesn't look very happy; he does look younger, as though the photo was taken soon after his initiation ended. "Tris, how old is he?"

Tris thinks for a moment. "He's a year older than Four and Eric. I think he was a patrol supervisor up until he was accepted into the leadership training program. Being a supervisor would have given him plenty of ways to do whatever he wanted. Being a leader would have given him unlimited access."

I click out of the page. I don't think there's anything particularly useful that I'll find here.

"I never really questioned what he told me," Tris says quietly. "He was so different than Four, and it was nice to be with someone who didn't know everything inside my head."

I stop my investigation and look over at her. She's not looking at me, and I can tell she's thinking about Four.

"Was Four a good boyfriend?"

She looks up at me then, and I know she'll tell me the truth. Tris has always had great insight into Eric, and I don't doubt some of it stemmed from her own relationship with Four. She was the first person I'd really confided in; it had been easy to tell her some of the most intense moments with Eric because she seemed to understand them.

"Yeah, he was. When we first met, he was a little guarded around me. I mean, he started out as my instructor, so we had to be careful. It was better when I wasn't his initiate. But he really wanted our relationship to work, and it almost felt unfair to him when it didn't." She makes a face. "I couldn't stand that he didn't seem to trust anything I wanted to do on my own. He could get a little possessive and overprotective. "

She stops for a second and touches the folders on the desk. "Kinda like you and Eric. Four tried really hard to make sure I made it through my initiation, and he tried even harder to make sure I stayed with him. Except we didn't quite work out the way you and Eric did." She grins wryly. "I mean, Four didn't secretly marry us. Probably because he didn't think of it."

"There's still time," I point out, and Tris lets out a loud laugh.

"He's better now. It's like he's relaxed a bit and taken my concerns to heart. I think he's working to tone down the things that bothered me so much, and now I actually want to be around him again." She sounds happier, and I can tell she's glad they have reunited.

"Has he said anything about Evelyn?" I ask her. I find myself wondering how much he tells her.

She shakes her head regretfully. "Just a little bit. I know he struggled with her decisions. She was the one parent he had a chance of having a semi-normal relationship with, and look how it ended up." She leans back against the edge of the desk. "I think if Evelyn hadn't been planning to take over the city, she and Four might have been able to mend their past."

"I feel bad for him," I tell her, staring at the screen in front of me. I try to imagine my own mother attempting to start a war and trying to convince me to be a part of it.

Tris looks to the side of me and nods. "I do, too. He had a pretty crappy childhood, and I think he really wanted to make a connection with her, to have some semblance of family. He hasn't taken her betrayal very well, but I think that's to be expected."

I can't help but feel sympathy for Four, but I know there's nothing I can really do to make him feel better. I push Eric's chair back and log off of his computer. The screen flashes, then his background lights up. The background on his screen is still the picture of him and me, and I can't help but be pleased that he's left it up there all this time. It makes me feel much better than I did a minute ago while pondering Four's family.

Tris must notice. She stands up and neatly arranges the folders on Eric's desk. "Should we go get dinner? If it's really terrible we can try to convince Eric to redo the cafeteria's budget."

 

 

I've almost fallen asleep when Eric finally returns home.

I can feel the mattress move as Eric lowers himself onto it. My eyes flutter open when I feel his fingers sliding across my hips, hooking one of them beneath the pair of boxers I've thrown on. I awake fully when his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my underwear.

He's above me, his knees spread to either side of me, his fingers brushing against my skin. I half sit up, staring down at the pleased expression on my husband's face. He merely looks up at me from his position, and continues lazily tracing my hip bone.

"Hi, Everly." He's working his fingers slowly, trailing over my skin in an aimless pattern.

"Eric!" I squirm beneath him, but I'm held in place by his weight. "What are you doing? When did you get home?"

"A little bit ago. You looked a little lonely in here," he drawls, looking back up at me. His fingers curve around my hip, and he moves himself upwards until he's directly over me. "Did I wake you?"

I feel myself grow burning hot when I realize what he's doing. My mind flashes back to a year ago, when he woke me up in the exact same way.

He doesn't wait for my answer. Eric bends his head down, finding my neck and pressing his lips there. His mouth feels good against my skin. He moves slower than ever, and I'm not surprised when I find myself reaching my hand up to tangle in the back of his hair.

"Everly." He says my name teasingly, and I wait for him to finish. "I need to ask you something."

"Yes?" I feel him kiss the crook of my neck and I giggle at the feel of his stubble. I want to pull him on top of me, burying us both beneath the warm covers, and not emerge until late tomorrow.

"Come to the Leadership Dinner with me." His voice is low, teasing and hot in my ear. "Next Saturday." He then kisses me roughly, his lips firmly pressed against mine; he breaks apart far too quickly for my liking.

"Leadership Dinner?"

He smiles widely. " Yes. You can come as my date."

I should smack him. I try to push him off me, but it's useless. "What would you do if I said no?"

His lip curls up in amusement. "I'd have to hope Four looks good in a dress."

"That's not funny," I tell him, but I can't help but smile at him. He looks disturbingly handsome, even though I can tell he's tired. "Fine. I'll go with you."

"Good." He kisses me again, and then very reluctantly pulls away until he's resting on his heels.

"I'll make dinner for you tomorrow," he announces. I push myself up so I can sit fully upright, staring up at him. "Sorry about tonight." He gives me a mock pout and I smile.

"It's alright. Why were you gone all day?" I hope he'll tell me. He's been irritated with Erudite lately, but hasn't really said why. I do wonder what he was doing while he was there, especially getting home so late. I had really been looking forward to eating dinner with him and then crawling into bed.

He shrugs and closes the space between us. "I sat in on three of their meetings, and I listened to five people argue about which traits they deem it necessary that their new leader possess. It was a long, aggravating day."

He leans in, kissing me again, his lips warm against mine. He keeps one of his hands in my hair, and he lets his nose brush against mine for a lingering moment. "God, I missed you."

I pull him towards me.

It doesn't take long for Eric to somehow push the covers back, and I find myself very happily beneath him, elated that he finally made it home.


	37. The Announcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay. I found it to be in my best interested to go through six versions of this chapter, resulting in it being long enough that it needed to be split in two.  
> Enjoy :)

"I can see her butt."

Tris says the words loudly, and Christina shakes her head.

"Not entirely," Christina points out.

I throw them both a disapproving look.

The feeling of déjà vu is back, but this time it's because of the hideous dress Christina insisted I try on. We're back in the same boutique I visited the first time I found out I was attending the Leadership Dinner. Once again, I'm stuck with an armful of dresses that are all too short and far too revealing to even sit down in.

Eric probably wouldn't mind, but there's no way I can wear any of these in public.

"She's not even that tall. How short would that be on someone else?" Tris asks incredulously. She's eyeing the hemline critically, with great distaste. It has little to do with her conservative side: the dress really is super short.

"I can't wear this. No one will take me seriously," I tell them. My dress from the last Leadership Dinner is still the prettiest thing I've ever worn, and it's far longer and less fitted than this one. It had been perfect for the dinner; it was revealing enough that Eric had seemed to like it, but it wasn't skimpy enough that I couldn't be taken seriously.

"I'll be back. I saw some in the front that might work," Tris announces, and heads back towards the front of the store, leaving Christina and me standing there.

Christina grins at me. "You can't tell me Eric wouldn't like it."

I grin at her and sigh. He probably would like it, but not for this dinner. I imagine he'd have little patience if I showed up dressed like this. Despite his lack of enthusiasm for most of the people attending, he would still take offense if I showed so little respect with my dress choice. "Not for the dinner."

Christina smirks knowingly. "We'll find something similar to last year's. I know he approved of that dress."

"He did," I answer, pulling at the bottom of the dress. It has managed to creep up even higher, even though I've done nothing more than stand in place. "Have you heard from Rylan at all? I know he and Eric went to dinner the other night."

Christina's face lights up and I can't help but feel happy for her. Her relationship with Rylan seems to be going very well. I wish the two of them could be at this dinner with us. It would be nice to have her there as some kind of secret support. While I'm looking forward to the dinner, I'm not overly enthused about seeing some of the people who will be attending. Marcus Eaton's face flashes through my mind. So does Ashley's.

"Yeah, Rylan and I just had breakfast together this morning. It's going really well. He's hilarious." She looks enamored suddenly, as if the very mention of his name is enough to make her melt. "I can't wait until we can all have dinner together." She turns her attention to the front of the store and Tris's approaching figure. "Oh good, it looks like Tris found something."

Tris did find something, more like a bunch of somethings. Her arms are full of dresses, all varying shades of pale pink and white, with just a couple of darker colors buried in the mix. They all look rather frilly, and I stare at them doubtfully. From here they look like nothing anyone in Dauntless would ever dream of wearing, and I wonder where on earth they came from.

"Where did you find those?" I ask her.

"Mostly from the front. They have a spring section already." She shoves them at me. "They made me think of you." Tris all but pushes me back into the dressing room. "Come out when you've tried one on."

I stare at the pile of dresses in my arms and sigh. It's proving to be infinitely harder to find something to wear this time around. Not only will I be attending as Eric's date for the second year, I will now be attending as his wife. Technically I was his wife last year, too — unbeknownst to me, of course — but this year it will definitely be more official. He will expect me to look like his wife, and not like I've wandered straight out of an Amity spring festival.

Half an hour later, I've tried on what feels like every dress in the store. I stand before my two friends in the last one, and much to my relief, they both looked enthusiastic. I really like this one. I found it hidden within the pile of dresses, and it's unlike anything I'd ever think to pick out for myself. Tris nods her approval.

"This is the perfect dress for your dinner."

It's by far the prettiest dress I've ever seen, with classy, fitted lines and a simple shape. It's a shimmery, sleeveless, floor-length dress made of a dark metallic material that almost looks like gunmetal. The dress bandage-wraps itself around me in layers of grayish-black foil, clinging everywhere I want it to, while the skirt flares out a bit at the bottom. The back of it is open in a curve all the way to my mid-back; the front mirrors the back with a scoop neck that's more revealing than anything I've ever worn.

Even though I've been in Dauntless for a year, I've had a hard time breaking away from my sundresses. Everything in my closet seems to give off a rather youthful feel, but this dress definitely does not. I stare at myself in the mirror, pushing my hair back off of one shoulder and I smile.

"I'll take it," I tell them, watching both girls beam their approval at me.

The girl at the checkout of this particular boutique gives me a snooty look when I set the dress on the counter. She looks unimpressed as she wraps it up for me, finally pausing to tell me the total. I don't bat an eye at her. Eric had told me to buy whatever I wanted to wear for the dinner, and I hadn't been surprised to discover he rarely looks at the points assigned to anything for purchase in Dauntless. He has no reason to. I've only caught sight of him scrolling through a summary of his account once, and it was clear he had far more points than he would ever spend.

I hand her the heavy black card he'd given me. She glances at the name on it, and gives me a nasty look.

"This is Eric's card," she tells me in a voice that conveys her contempt. "Does he know that you have it?"

I smile brightly at her, not bothering to respond to her scorn. "He handed it to me this morning." The girl makes a surprised face as she swipes it. "So yes, my husband is aware I have it."

She freezes, her green hair falling into her eyes for a moment. "Oh." She looks up at me in sudden recognition as she hands me the card back. "You're really married to Eric?" She doesn't look as snooty now, she looks mostly curious. It's not anything I'm unfamiliar with. It seems the subject of Eric and our marriage is still enough to render most people tactless. They quickly lose any restraint they might normally have, and their questions always seem to border on intrusive. "How old are you?"

"Thank you. Have a nice day." I take my dress from her, and I turn to my friends, ignoring her questions. They are both staring at the girl with annoyance, but I wave them away from her. I can feel her watching us leave, her stare hot on the back of my head.

"Wow, she was rude," Christina mutters as we walk away, but I just shake my head.

"It doesn't bother me that much. She probably didn't believe Eric would ever marry anyone." We walk along for a moment before we have to part ways, and I bid farewell to the both of them. Tris has a shift to work in the control room for half the day, then we'll meet for dinner. Christina is meeting Rylan for lunch and probably won't be available for dinner. Right now, I don't have anything pressing to do other than head home to Eric.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels absurdly normal.

Eric is seated on the couch when I return. He's dressed casually, but he looks tense. He's glowering at the papers on the coffee table. I don't see what they are until I'm closer to him, and I come to an abrupt halt when I catch sight of the first page.

Eric glances up at me from beneath his eyelashes, and looks reluctant to say anything.

"Everly." He says my name in a warning tone as I flip through the pages. It takes me a second to realize they are plans of attack on each faction, starting with Abnegation and ending with Amity. I must have a weird look on my face because Eric's fingers wrap around my elbow. "Everly, they're not anything current. I found them in my office. I'd forgotten I left them in there." He's looking at them intently, his stare fixed on the Erudite logo at the top of the page.

"They were Jeanine's. I never went through with them."

There is a heavy weight and implication behind his words. I try to imagine Jeanine's army storming through the factions, tearing them apart one by one. Eric's rejection of her ideas must have infuriated her, since she would never have been able to acquire control of the other factions without his cooperation. His choice to turn away from her had cost her dearly; in fact, it had led to her ultimate downfall.

I turn to face Eric, and I bite my lip. "I know."

He lets go of my arm and leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees; he sighs heavily.

"Why do you have them?" I ask him. I set the papers down on the table and I move to sit down beside him, curling my legs beneath me. He looks over at me and shakes his head.

"I was cleaning out my office. I found them shoved in one of the drawers. I didn't want to dispose of them there." He watches me for a minute and I nod at him.

"Do you want me to throw them away?" I smile at him, and he raises an eyebrow.

I want to ask him more questions about the papers, but I don't. I already know most of the answers. He didn't follow through with them because of what he and I had become. The more time I'd spent with him, the less willing he'd been to do whatever Jeanine asked. I'd watched him become less interested in working for her. I can still remember the frustration coming from him during part of our relationship, fueled by some internal struggle he'd kept to himself.

"You can burn them," he tells me. He leans back against the couch and puts his hands behind his head. "I didn't mean for you to see them. I was reading them over and thinking what a waste of my time that all was."

I stare at him.

For the past few days, Eric has seemed woefully preoccupied. It reminds me of the days when Jeanine forced him to work nonstop, attempting to pacify her endless demands. I'd had a rough time with his attention being diverted elsewhere, and even now I had to stop myself from pestering him.

I just want Eric to relax for a minute. I can't figure out if he is still on edge from our trip to the factionless sector or if there's something else bothering him. He's been quiet, and sadly, I haven't been able to get him to recreate our reunion night together, either. More often than not, he has kissed my forehead before bed, then fallen asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.

I've wondered if he's working on something, some other project assigned by someone else, or if this is all internal.

"Did you find a dress?" He changes the subject, and his words bring me back to the present moment.

I nod at him. "Do you want to see it?" I ask, enjoying the way he smirks at me.

"You can surprise me," Eric answers, and he tilts his head, his attention fully focused on me. "Is it pink?" I watch his lips curl up in amusement at the idea.

"I guess you'll find out," I tease him, moving closer towards him. I settle back against his chest, and it's not long before his fingers are in my hair, roughly moving through the long strands. Eric shifts slightly so I can recline further into him. He feels solid behind me, and I close my eyes for a minute. I'm not remotely tired, but it feels so good to sit against him like this that I could probably drift off.

"Just as long as it looks better on you than Four…" He huffs the words in my ear and I giggle. An image of Four pops into my head, him and his tall frame in my fitted black dress, standing beside Eric at the dinner. It's a ridiculous thought, and I snort softly.

"Why didn't Four want to be a leader again?" I ask him. Eric's fingers haven't stopped working through my hair, tangling it together. I've been thinking about this off and on lately. Mostly because if he had become one, it would mean Tris would be able to come to the dinner with me.

"He didn't appreciate some of the ideas that were being encouraged. We were integrating some things that he didn't believe in. So he chose another position," Eric answers me indifferently. I can tell it makes little difference to him what position Four holds.

I find Eric's free hand, the one that's resting around my waist, and I pull it to mine. He holds it up, letting me examine his fingers one by one.

"It would have been very different if Four had been a leader. He might have been my trainer," I tell him, pretending to be intrigued by the idea. I watch him bend his fingers in until they fold over my hand, and he scoffs behind me.

"I can only imagine the excitement you two would have had," Eric answers dryly, clearly unimpressed. I smile even though he can't see me, and I take note of the way he tightens his grip on my hand.

Two days later I slide into the free space next to Four, somewhat unenthused to be attending this meeting.

The event had been announced some time ago, but I hadn't given it much thought. Max had determined that the best way to keep the faction up-to-date was to hold a monthly faction meeting, starting now. They whole compound would gather together to listen to him and whoever else he deemed important enough to speak. They'd figured out some way to broadcast it for the Dauntless that were working outside the compound and couldn't be here in person, but everyone else was required to show up.

It wasn't that I found it uninteresting; I actually found the methods behind the Dauntless madness to be fascinating. It was that it took away from my lazy Saturday with Eric. I'd been looking forward to spending my entire day off with him, and instead he'd been up and dressed before I could even open my eyes. I'd heard him announce that he needed to meet Max to go over their agenda, and then he was gone before I could respond.

After eating breakfast and getting ready by myself, I'd made my way down to the Pit in hopes of finding someone familiar. The entire faction was milling around, taking up every ounce of space they could find. I'd never seen everyone together like this, and it bordered on overwhelming.

Four picks up on my slight discomfort immediately. He nudges my shoulder. "Amity have this many members?"

I shake my head. "I always thought Amity had more members than any faction. But this seems way more crowded. Maybe because Amity has more space, with more room to spread out during our meetings, it doesn't look so crowded?"

Amity meetings had never been high on my list of things I enjoyed. There's supposed to be a reverence to them, but I'd never picked up on it. I'd been one of the few who always felt impatient sitting there, waiting for everyone to mull over what Johanna had just told us. The Dauntless version seems wildly different; I might be the quietest person here.

It seems impossible, but a huge group of members bursts in and heads toward us. A large man with a very tall mohawk shoves past me to join his friends, and he knocks me into Four. I try to steady myself, and I can feel the rest of the crowd pressing against us. Four throws me an uneasy smile; he looks just about as thrilled as I feel.

"Claustrophobic, isn't it?" he mutters. "Maybe they should have done this in shifts."

I don't get to respond; the crowd seems to get louder and I crane my neck up as Max and Eric appear on one of the outcroppings. They both seem serious, but Eric more so. He keeps his lips pressed together and his hands are clamped behind his back. He surveys the room with an air of disdain, and I can't help but smile.

I bet none of them know how adorable he looks when he's sleeping.

"Alright, listen up," Max yells, and the Pit quiets down to a dull roar. I try to catch Eric's eye; he's glancing around the room and I wonder if he's looking for me. "We've got a lot to cover and not a lot of time."

I quickly look around the room. Everyone finally shuts up, their attention now fixed on Max.

"I'd like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that Evelyn is still at large. I want you all on high alert. We need to start behaving as though she's already attacked us, because she has. Everly was the first near casualty of Evelyn's grab for power, and we will not have another." His voice echoes in the open space.

A few people turn to look at me, but I keep my stare on Max. He lists a few new security measures he's implementing, including the addition of three separate patrols whose only job will be to look for Evelyn, along with a long list of things to look out for.

Everyone around me is nodding, their attention back on him as he mentions that there has been no recent sighting of her.

Max finishes his final point, and everyone stays silent. His words hang in the air, heavy and tense. Evelyn is still a very real threat, more than Jeanine ever was, given how many supporters she has. Somehow Max's announcement to be on high alert makes it seem far more real than just the whispered rumors of Evelyn's disappearance.

Max takes a step to the side, and Eric shoves past him until he's standing up front. The entire time Max has been speaking, Eric has seemed pensive. Pensive and irritated, actually. I watched him keep his mouth tightly shut, his steely gaze raking over the members of Dauntless.

"There's one final announcement," Eric barks out to the crowd. Every head in Dauntless turns to stare up at him. He waits a beat, until the crowd silences in anticipation. "Today marks the one year anniversary of my marriage to Everly. Not only is Everly my wife," he pauses for a long moment, and my eyes widen when I realize the exact second at which he's found me in the crowd. It's the moment his eyes seem to darken. "She's going to be one of the leaders of this faction. You're to treat her with the utmost respect."

I feel myself grow dizzy.

The entire room is silent, and I swear mere seconds pass before the curious stares find me again, this time far more inquisitive. Beside me, Four lets out a stifled cough, and I can tell Eric's sudden announcement isn't just unexpected, it's a shock to many of the assembled Dauntless.

"You're dismissed. You can all go back to your business." Eric sneers his final words, and the Pit suddenly roars back to life. I find myself suddenly being jostled from every angle. There are yelps of congratulations coming at me, probably from Jason and Rylan, a few groups shrieking things to each other like "I knew it!" and "No fucking way", a few girls who look utterly crushed, and a lot of probing stares in my direction.

I feel a hand close on my arm, and I'm relieved when I discover it belongs to Four. He pulls me along with him, working his way through the crowd.

"You won't make it out of here if we don't leave now," he says close to my ear, and I nod at him. I'm grateful for his help, and I follow after him as he leads me towards an exit.

"Did you know Eric was making that final announcement?" Four sounds curious, but also puzzled. He pushes us past a large group of girls, all of whom stop their discussion as we walk by.

I shake my head, even though I'm trailing behind him. "No. I had no idea what they were planning to talk about." My mind is whirling nonstop, the thoughts coming one after the other. Eric's announcement was unexpected, but I have no doubt there's a very good reason behind it. Eric is always careful with his words, and he must have thought long and hard before he decided to make such an announcement in front of the entire faction.

I bite down on my cheek, still trying to figure out what prompted his speech. While he'd never denied our marriage, he'd never gone out of his way to mention it, either.

I've always wondered if maybe he kept quiet about it because of who I was. Maybe there was some sort of secret dishonor for a leader to marry his initiate, or perhaps it was because I came from Amity. Despite the fact that I had fought hard to earn my position in Dauntless, there was still a lingering stigma in my own mind. Or, maybe he had been reluctant to acknowledge our marriage for reasons I can't even imagine or understand.

Four and I find our way out of the Pit, stopping near one of the hallways. It's not long before I see Eric and Max striding towards us. Max has a very thoughtful look on his face while Eric has a very satisfied one on his, one that practically dares someone to ask him a single question.

"Nice speech. Very informative," Four tells them, and I can tell his words are aimed more at Eric than Max. I elbow him, and I realize he's all but smirking. "Congratulations on your anniversary. I'll see you guys later."

"Thanks for walking me out of there," I tell him, and he waves me off without another word. Eric steps closer until he can reach for my hand, and I smile when he laces his fingers through mine.

"Are you ready to go home?" He looks at me intently, and for a moment I feel hot. It feels as though everyone in Dauntless is staring at us as we stand there, fingers intertwined. I can almost feel their stares zeroing in on us. I nod my head at him, figuring the walk back to our apartment will give us time to talk about his announcement.

My hopes are crushed when Max butts in. "I'll walk with you. We can figure out who's covering the second and third patrols."

Max is the ultimate cock block.

It's not so much that I had plans to jump Eric, but when I watch Max plop down onto one of the dining room chairs, I know he's not leaving anytime soon. He makes himself at home, busying himself with his tablet, and I watch as he slowly pulls up some sort of map. I can only guess it's for the new patrol routes he wants covered. I inwardly groan when Eric sits next to him, and he throws me a very knowing smile.

"We'll need someone to oversee sections three and four, mostly during the second and third shifts. Effective immediately." Max is pointing at a section that's lit up and flashing. I'm still hovering in the kitchen, trying to decide if I want lunch or not. I don't really want to invite Max to eat with us; we'll be dining with him tonight, and the sooner he leaves the sooner I can talk to Eric. I'm hoping Max is not planning on staying long.

I listen to them talk back and forth until Eric calls my name.

"Come look at this," he calls over to me.

I make my way towards the table, begrudgingly looking at the gadget now in Eric's hands. He raises a pierced eyebrow at me and smirks. "Think Karl's had enough of the daycare center yet?"

Christina helps me do my hair, while Tris sits on the edge of the bathtub. She's looking at the dinner invitation with a bored look on her face.

"I'm glad I'll be missing this," she tells me, wrinkling her nose. "It looks like it's going to run pretty long."

The dinner plan does look long, starting with a cocktail hour and concluding with a dessert bar. The official invitation Eric had left on his counter said the dinner would run from six until midnight. I try to remember how long the last one was, but I can't. I had been so nervous that the entire night had ended up being a blur, but I do recall that there was a lot of socializing amongst the leaders.

"I wish you guys could be there," I tell them. I peer up through the mess of hair Christina has clipped out of the way, trying to peek at what she's doing. Christina grins at me, wrapping a section of my hair for a moment before unwinding it.

"I would die to go to one of these events. I heard the newest leader of Erudite might be there." She sprays my hair with something and I try not to breathe it in. "I wonder who it is?"

I catch the curious look Tris throws me, and I shrug. "I don't know. Eric hasn't said anything about it."

Eric hadn't said a word about anything because he'd spent his whole afternoon with Max, discussing whether or not Karl would be a good fit to lead their newest patrol. Eric still wasn't entirely over the fact that Karl had disobeyed him, and he seemed to enjoy the prospect of teasing the position over him. I found myself wanting to interject many times, but I wasn't really a part of their conversation, and my words might not work in Karl's favor.

I almost sighed with relief when Max made the executive decision to move Karl back to the patrol squad and have him help with one of the new ones. I was keeping myself busy by moving all of the glasses to a lower spot in the cabinet when I heard Max bring up Jeremy. I felt the strange uneasiness creep back up my spine, and though I could leave at any moment, I didn't. I had hoped they were winding things up and I could talk to Eric about his announcement, but I didn't get the chance. They had both stood up, Eric had kissed me goodbye, and had said he'd be back in a bit.

He still wasn't back.

A few hours after he left, Tris and Christina showed up at the same time, both wielding large smiles and two oversized bags filled with all kinds of supplies. After being shooed away to go take a shower and get ready, I am now sitting patiently while Christina dries my hair. Tris and I have been using the time to catch up on the latest conversation between Max and Eric. Now our chatter has hit a lull, but it isn't until Christina sets the curling iron down that something occurs to me.

"Do you think they'll replace Jeremy?" I ask them.

Both girls turn to look at me, and Tris looks confused. "As what, a guard on the fence? I thought they were pulling Karl back to help out."

"No, not on the fence. As a Leader-in-Training. Will they find someone else?" I ask her.

She shakes her head and shrugs. "I'm not sure. I don't know if anyone else would be eligible for the position. Do you mean in Eric's class, or just in general?"

"Just in general," I answer. I don't think Eric would let anyone else in his class. He's made it very clear that his expectations are high, and aside from me, no one else has met them. "I was just thinking they'd be short a leader that they had planned on having."

Christina finishes curling my hair, then braids the side of my hair back and instructs me to hold still. I grimace as she slides something into the braid she's just created, and I can feel a stabbing sensation when I realize it's another bobby pin. I glance at Tris, and I start to get nervous when I spy the weird look on her face.

"What?" I ask her, my hand flying to my hair in search of whatever offensive item Christina just put in there.

Tris widens her eyes and opens her mouth to say something. She closes it after a second and shakes her head before she looks at Christina. "I think it's a little formal."

"Formal?" I turn to ask, and I'm greeted with Christina's scowl.

"Don't move. You're messing this up," she points out, and she shoves my head back in place.

"What did you do?" I'm starting to panic and I still can't see my hair.

"Chris, I don't know if Eric will like that…" Tris gently tries to sway her friend, and I finally stand up, ignoring Christina's protests.

I turn to face the mirror and I shake my head no. "It's, uh, very fancy."

My hair does look really pretty, but the minute I put my dress on, it'll ruin the effect. The braid has a rather youthful feel to it, almost a bohemian vibe. It doesn't really go with my dress. It looks like I wandered away from an Amity wedding and somehow wound up in Dauntless. Everything is braided around my head, and comes together in one final complicated-looking braid.

Christina makes a disappointed face and I suddenly feel guilty. "It's not that I don't like it," I tell her. "But Eric just announced I'm going to be the next leader here. At tonight's dinner, I can't look like I'm sitting there wishing I was back in Amity."

My words seem to make sense to her, and she nods, albeit a bit sullenly.

"I could make it smaller?" she bargains.

I shake my head slightly. "I'll just take it out and leave it down. Eric seems to prefer it that way."

The two of them help me undo the long braid Christina plaited, and then they try to comb out the mess it created. They are just about finished when I hear the front door open and then slam shut.

"Oh good, Eric's back," I tell them brightly. I've been dying to get him alone for a few minutes today, and this might finally be my chance.

"Good. We're done," Christina announces. I sneak a peek in the mirror and sigh with relief. My hair is mostly normal again, just slightly larger than usual.

Tris starts packing up the bags, and Christina shoves the can of sticky spray at me. "Spray your hair with this again before you leave. It'll help it stay in place." She hugs me tightly, and they both head out just as Eric comes sauntering into the bathroom. He stops behind me, his gaze on my hair.

His eyes narrow and I wave my hand at him trying to quiet him down before he can say something.

"I know, I know," I tell him, attempting to smooth it down some more. "Christina put it in this braid and I made her take it out." His eyes fall to my neck, and he glances back at me.

I watch as his lip curls up and I prepare for some smartass remark. "It's very poufy."

I freeze with my hand stuck in my hair. "I'm well aware of that," I tell him.

Eric moves to step behind me, and he leans in, placing one hand on each side of the sink. He bends forward until his lips brush my ear. "I'll help you flatten it." He says the words lazily, and he presses his mouth right below my ear.

I lean my head to the side, sighing against him.

"Do you know how to fix your hair yourself?" His voice sounds impatient now, rather demanding. I nod my head and I feel his hands move across my waist to pull me back against him. "Good."

He doesn't say much else. The next thing I know my back hits the mattress, and he's on top of me before I can worry about ruining my hair.

I curl my hair again while Eric dresses.

He looks rather pleased with himself, and his cheerful attitude means I can't help the smile that crosses my face. My hair is looking better; I've managed to make it wavy, but fancier than I would normally wear it. Eric strolls into the bathroom and stands behind me, straightening his dark tie. He's still barefoot, but compared to last year, we are slightly ahead of schedule.

"Do you need me to sign anything before we go?" I tease him.

He smirks, adjusting the collar of his stiff dress shirt. He had showered and dressed quickly, but his hair still needs to be corralled into place. I like that it's sticking up in every direction, the longer front pieces falling into his eyes.

"Actually, yes." I watch him finish his shirt, and he moves to comb his hair. It only takes a few seconds before he looks like himself again.

I can't tell if he's joking or not, but I grin as I wrap another section of my hair around the barrel. "What did you do this time? Secretly sign me up to be trained as your personal assistant?"

"No need," he throws out, his eyes falling on my hair. "If Karl doesn't work out on his patrol he can be my assistant."

I roll my eyes at him as I finish my hair. "Funny." I tell him. I turn to face him, and I notice he looks very serious all of a sudden. He widens his stance slightly, and his eyes flash down to me.

"What's wrong?" I look up at him, wondering where his cheerful mood went. He's watching me, seemingly contemplating something, but he doesn't appear to be bothered or upset. Eric doesn't answer me right away, he just shrugs and finally raises an eyebrow, with a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I got you something."

I smile up at him, surprised and pleased at the same time. Since I've been married to him, Eric has given me only a small handful of gifts, but each one has been very carefully considered. He's not one for frivolous romantic gestures; anything that has come from him has held some sort of well-planned, deeper meaning to it. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black box, and silently hands it to me.

"What is it?" I ask him.

He rolls his eyes. "You could open it and find out."

I take the top off of the box, and I'm somewhat surprised by the contents. I stare at the necklace nestled inside, and for a moment I can't say anything. The necklace is an intricate silver chain with a silver charm dangling from it; the charm consists of the letters E and C. I pick it up gently, my fingers tracing the outline of the wedded letters. It's not so much that they're my own initials, it's that they're also his. I know the implication behind this necklace: it's a very clear announcement that I belong to Eric — that I am his and he is mine.

Eric is watching me carefully, waiting for me to say something.

"I like it." I smile at him, and his eyes flash with pride.

"Where did you get it?" I ask him. I take the necklace out of the box, and hold it out to Eric. "Help me put it on."

I turn to face the mirror, and I watch Eric move my hair out of the way before he helps clasp the necklace together. His fingers linger on my neck before he moves my hair back.

"I had it made." He sounds smug, and I wonder who the poor soul was that was tasked with making this. I can only imagine how specific and exacting Eric must have been. "It's fitting. It declares who you are, and that you are married to me."

He meets my gaze in the mirror and I beam back at him. I have an inkling that his past week of quietness had something to do with today's speech. "Can I ask you something?"

Eric raises an eyebrow at me, and I try hard to stay still. "I suppose," he replies cautiously.

I turn back around to face him, and he immediately steps forward to close the distance between us. One hand reaches around my back to push me towards him, and the other finds my hip. I have to really crane my neck to stare up at him, but this position is almost as good as if I'd climbed on top of him.

"Why did you make that announcement today?"

For a moment, he moves his gaze to somewhere above me. I wait patiently, trying not to move a muscle. He seems to be more open to talking if he's the one in charge of the conversation, and if I stay still enough, he'll answer. And I want to hear his answer. While I think I have some idea of why he made it, I want to hear him say it.

He exhales sharply, and finally lowers his stare to mine. "Because. You deserve to be acknowledged and respected." His fingers tighten on my hip, and the ones on my back press me closer to him. "Because I don't show you enough how much you mean to me."

My lips part in surprise. I hadn't anticipated his answer would be so thoughtful. I'd assumed he just wanted to get people off his back, to get them to stop pestering him with questions about me, about us.

Eric's eyes glow with an intensity and a seriousness that I seldom see directed at me, willing me to listen and understand. "The other day you came after me and said it was because you wanted to save me. It was a stupid thing to do." He gives me a pointed look, and I try not to scowl. "But no one else has ever given a shit about whether I made it back to Dauntless or not. I made the choice to marry you and I don't regret it. I never asked what you thought about it, but I'm sure now that you have chosen me, too. I lost you once to Evelyn and then to the memory serum, and it sucked. I've gotten you back, and I don't ever want to lose you again." His hand reaches up to caress my cheek, and I lean into it, my eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When I open them, Eric is still staring down at me, but his expression has darkened, his eyebrows descending into a frown.

"I've also heard that some of the people here give you funny looks, question you, hassle you. So I want those assholes and everyone else to know that you are my wife. I'm not ashamed or embarrassed for them to know who you are. You deserve to be treated with appropriate respect. No one should ever question your status again, and if they do, they'll deal with me."

He finishes up his eloquent speech, and I swear my chest is so tight it could burst. I feel like there isn't enough room in my ribcage anymore. Eric has declared himself unequivocally, and he's done it on his own, without any prompting other than my stupid plan to save him.

"I love you." It's all I can say before I kiss him, my lips crashing against his with the force of my love and desire for him. I wish we had more time; I want him to drag me back to our bed again, to show me all over again just how he really feels.

But we don't.

He breaks apart from me and I stifle my whine of protest.

"Later," he says lowly, and I nod, letting my head fall to his chest.

"And don't forget to sign the papers on the counter. Don't ask any questions, either."

I snort against his chest, daring to think what he's having me sign now.

"Fine," I tell him. "But you'll have to explain yourself later."

I can tell he's smiling down at me, one of the rare wide smiles that show his teeth, and I get the feeling he's very satisfied with the way our night is going.

Eric leads me to a part of Dauntless I've never seen before.

I follow along with him, my arm linked though his, until we reach a hallway that breaks off past the normal conference rooms. For a moment, I thought he was taking me to the same room I'd sat in countless times, listening to the other leaders talk amongst themselves. Instead, we continue on a path that's entirely new to me.

"Almost there," Eric announces, keeping my arm tightly drawn through his. He doesn't stop until we've reached two very large, heavy, wooden doors. They look out of place here. They are far more ornate than any I've ever seen in Dauntless; they have the Dauntless logo etched deeply into the burnt wood.

"Where are we?" I ask him, glancing around to get a better look. Our route here felt like we were navigating through a maze, but Eric knew where we were going.

"Every faction is expected to take a turn hosting the Annual Leadership Dinner. They all have a room set aside for the event." He raises an eyebrow at me. "On rare occasions, it's also used to host other types of dinners or meetings that are held privately, away from the rest of the faction."

"I've never seen one in Amity," I tell him.

Eric shrugs. "You would have had no reason to attend." He moves to push the doors open, and he turns to smirk at me. "Now you do."

I smile at him, and I reach for his arm, pulling him through the door with me.

I immediately come to a halt.

This conference room looks like nothing I've ever seen before. The ceilings are high and airy, and I swear I can see the stars through the skylights. The room is larger than I had expected; its walls are dark and cavernous, as though someone has carved this room right out of the stone. There are twinkling sconces mounted along the walls, casting a warm glow over the room.

But none of that is what makes me stop in my tracks.

It's everyone in the room, the people waiting for us, their stares beaming in our direction. It takes me a second to place them all, the faces dizzyingly familiar.

Eric's father and mother are here, standing beside a group of well-dressed men and women at one of the tables. My mother and Johanna are standing with Max and Tori. I spy Jason and Rylan shoving each other off to the side; Christina and Tris, who are standing with Four; Jack and his assistants; Sofia and Courtney, both of whom are beaming at Karl; and a grinning, satisfied-looking Arlene. Before I can identify anyone else, Eric stiffens beside me.

"What the fuck!?" Eric snarls in my ear, and his fingers dig into my side.


	38. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!  
> I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, because this one has seriously become one of my favorite chapters to read. 
> 
> There is an outtake that follows it, again because I'm too lazy to make it its own story. It's Eric's Dad's POV :) I put a chunk of space in between the two so they don't get mixed up. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy enjoy! I hope everyone has a fantastic week :)

I sit next to Eric, his jaw clenched tightly shut, and I can't help but smile at everyone around me.

It turns out that last week, when he learned of Eric's planned announcement, Max decided that Eric and I deserved an anniversary dinner to publicly celebrate our first year of marriage. He recruited Arlene, who clearly took great delight in helping to make the arrangements. Between them, they conspired to merge our anniversary celebration with the Annual Leadership Dinner, knowing we'd be guaranteed to show up; it made it easy for them to keep us in the dark about their plans. Tonight's invited guests were a mix of our family and closest friends, alongside the leaders of the other factions.

I was shocked to discover my mother is here, dreamily smiling at me from beside Johanna. I was even more shocked to discover Eric's mother and father are in attendance. His father looks happy to be here; he grinned widely when we walked in, a proud look flashing across his face. It was the sight of his wife beside him that threw me for a loop.

I expected the worst. I waited for her face to drop into a scowl, and her eyes to narrow before she came after me, berating me for throwing myself such an extravagant party when Eric very clearly had work to do.

But Blythe looked unexpectedly subdued.

She stood beside Daniel, smiling calmly, her gaze fixed on Eric and me. She nodded at us in some odd display of approval. If I didn't know her, I'd think she looked almost motherly in that moment. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn't quite place my finger on who.

"I can't believe Max did this," I whisper to Eric. There's really no need for me to be quiet: the room is noisy, but in a very celebratory way. The round tables have been set up so Eric and I are seated in front of everyone, and we are flanked by more tables; there's plenty of room, and most of us have a fairly good view of one another.

"Neither can I," Eric answers dryly, glancing around with great disdain. He looks less than pleased with Max's efforts.

I don't mind that Eric looks like he'd rather be doing anything other than sitting here. There's no way Eric would have ever thrown a big party for himself. This one is not huge, but it definitely goes against his definition of small. He's clearly not thrilled with the whole thing, and it probably doesn't help that someone took it upon themselves to seat Four next to him.

Eric takes a long drink of his wine and throws Four a dark look.

Four and Tris are sitting next to each other, followed by Tori and Harrison. Ever since we sat down, I've noticed that Four has looked mildly uneasy. He keeps throwing furtive glances in the direction of my mother, and I look over to see that the man seated at her table isn't Marcus Eaton; instead, Abnegation is being represented by Andrew Prior, and he is the one Four keeps looking at. I can't help but wonder why his presence has Four on edge.

Four's unease seems to cause Eric great delight. Eric smirks whenever Andrew's stare drifts towards Four and Tris, and he all but smiles when Andrew stands up and makes his way over to them. Andrew pauses to talk with them briefly, his eyes kind as Tris stares up at him, smiling brightly.

"This is Four." I listen as Tris introduces Four to her father. Four throws a very careful smile up at Andrew, attempting to rise from his seat until Andrew selflessly declines the gesture. I notice Blythe is listening to their interaction, and she frowns slightly, squinting her eyes at him.

Andrew shifts his weight and politely smiles back at Four, observing him closely. "Interesting name, Four." His voice and expression are neutral, yet there is still the mildest hint of skepticism behind his words; I can't help but wonder if Andrew recognizes that he's Marcus's son.

Four gives him an inscrutable look, his face revealing nothing. "I prefer it. My initiation instructor gave it to me," he answers tersely. I can tell Four is done with their conversation from the muscle that's twitching as he grinds his teeth together. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Blythe tilt her head, watching Four intensely.

I don't catch any more of their words, but it isn't long before Andrew bids them farewell and heads in our direction. He stops near us to offer up his congratulations, maintaining a respectful distance between himself, a sneering Eric, and me. I very badly want to ask him where Marcus is, but I know this isn't the time. I'm relieved that Marcus isn't here; I can't thank Max enough for his foresight in asking Andrew to come instead.

"Thanks," Eric sounds completely insincere with his short reply, and I elbow him. I can see him side-glare at me, but he relents a bit. "Thank you for coming," he says with forced politeness.

I watch as Andrew tries to fight the smile forming on his face, and he nods respectfully. "Best wishes to you both." He bows his head at me, stepping back further to let the staff pass by him with salad plates, then returns to his table. No one quiets down as the first course is served, and I enjoy the warm, buzz-y feeling the room gives off.

"Everly, I don't believe we've met your mother yet." Daniel takes his seat next to me. Whoever made the seating chart either had ulterior motives or an ill-timed death wish.

"Oh, she's just been busy over…there..." I trail my words off, and I suddenly hope my mother stays in her own seat. I adore her, dearly. But I'm a little nervous for her to wander around the room freely. Johanna has been doing a great job of keeping her busy, and the two of them plus Andrew seem to be in a very intense discussion about the salad that's being plated. I don't need to be standing next to them to know my mother is discussing the benefits of eating organic produce. I can tell she's seconds away from examining each ingredient, proudly announcing from which parts of the Amity farm it all originates.

She looks up suddenly, as though she knows I've been talking about her, and she beams at me. I smile back at her and wave. She looks pretty; her dress is breezy and flowing, and her hair is braided to the side, reaffirming my decision to take out Christina's braid. My mother looks much happier than the last time I saw her, and I don't doubt Johanna has slipped her something extra to keep her relaxed.

"What does she do in Amity?" Daniel asks me, and he takes a bite of salad.

I cringe. "Um, well, she…"

"Yes, what does she do? I don't think you've ever said." Eric's interest is piqued, and I want to kick him. He's picked the worst time to want to know anything about Amity, and I can tell he's not going to let this one go. He's leaning into me, his eyes trained on me. "Funny, for all you've told me about Amity, you've never once mentioned what she does."

"I didn't tell you that much about Amity," I answer quickly, trying hard to shut him up, but he's smirking at me as if he knows full well that I don't want to announce what she does. "She... uh…" I try to stall, but my fate is sealed when my mother appears beside me, a proud smile on her face.

"Everly! You look beautiful," she gushes, and she moves in to kiss me, nearly knocking me into Eric. "Congratulations, darling." She pats Eric on the shoulder and he throws her a dirty look for daring to touch him.

I smile up at her, and I stand to hug her. She looks thrilled to be here, and she hugs me back tightly, not letting go. She beams at me, brushing my hair back for a moment before she leans in to whisper in my ear.

"It's very dark here. Are you getting enough sunlight? You know what the lack of Vitamin D can do to a person."

I stay very still, a hot feeling washing over me. I just nod my head, not wanting to encourage her. "You look so pretty," I announce brightly, trying to distract her so she won't say anything too loudly.

"I have something for you and Eric," she tells me, and I bite back the nervousness that suddenly works its way up my spine. I realize she's holding something in her hand, and she reaches into the bag as I try to take a step back from my mother. I find myself backed up against Eric's chair, and he moves one hand to lazily rest it on my waist. He's looking at her curiously, probably wondering what on Earth she could have brought us.

"You didn't have to do that…" I'm watching her carefully, trying to catch a glimpse of what she could have brought. I've conjured up all sorts of ideas in my mind and none of them are pleasant.

It turns out to be much worse than I could have ever imagined. I try not to cringe at the wreath of flowers she reverently places on my head.

Eric's eyes widen in disbelief and I watch as the muscle in his cheek twitches. I'm not sure if he's close to exploding or laughing, but he swallows and stares up at me. A few others have turned to see what she's doing, including a very interested-looking Arlene.

"It was always my dream to watch you wed in Amity." My mother is rambling now, and she's adjusting my hair and pushing my bangs out of the way. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Tris and Four observing as this whole scene plays out, and I silently curse them when neither of them jump to my rescue. "You would have been a beautiful bride."

For a moment I stand perfectly still, frozen with her wreath atop my head and Eric's fingers digging into my waist. I feel as though I've been transported right back into Amity. All we need is a fire burning somewhere and somebody leading everyone in a sing-along. I turn to tell my mother thank you, but I'll be taking this thing off in the next few seconds, but I can't.

She has moved quickly, and Eric's whole expression changes as she places the matching one on him.

"Absolutely not," he snarls angrily, snatching the offensive wreath of flowers from his hair. I stare in horror as his hair sticks up in a few spots, and he tosses the wreath onto the table in front of him.

Any normal person would recoil from him in abject terror. They would step away from Eric as though they had been burnt, realizing they were mere seconds away from being murdered by him, and that Eric would take great pleasure in tearing them limb from limb. I watch as every part of him tenses up, and I reach for him before he can stand up and make a scene.

But my mother is not just any normal person. She is still smiling at him, not the least bit aware that he would rather die than wear a wreath of flowers. She simply nods at him, and then very sweetly announces she didn't want him to feel left out. Maybe Johanna really did overdose her.

"You really should wear it," my mother insists. "You two look adorable in them."

I can hear Jason, Rylan, and Christina giggling, and I pray they haven't been drinking too much. My prayers must have fallen on deaf ears, however, as Jason lets out a loud catcalling whistle, and Rylan chimes in with "Aww, c'mon Eric, those flowers are just so you!" Eric's face darkens as he levels the trio with a thunderous glare, and I start to panic, knowing he's about ready to explode.

"Fuck, NO!" Eric roars loudly.

"You don't have to wear that," I whisper, and Eric's fingers dig into my waist even tighter.

"I'm not about to," he snaps, and I wonder if he's suddenly regretting our marriage. "Take that ridiculous thing off your head, too." His tone has remained rather nasty, and I look at him in surprise. He must catch the expression on my face because his stare drops to the table and he takes a couple of deep breaths.

"I will," I tell him and he turns and glares at my mother, jutting his chin out. Luckily, she's already moving on. She has noticed who's sitting beside me, watching in stunned stupefaction as this whole scene plays out.

"I don't like it when you look like some peace-loving hippie stranger from Amity." Eric sounds surly, and I lean into him to smooth his hair back down. I know full well I won't win this argument. Not that I want to. I very gently pry my wreath out of my hair, making sure to keep it intact. I set it beside his, and I turn to face her.

"Thank you for these," I tell my mother sweetly. "I think we will save them for later."

Eric snorts, and I ignore him. My mother smiles airily in return, and throws her stare exactly where I don't want her to. "Are these Eric's parents?"

"They are," I tell her. I turn to Eric, my eyes pleading with him, but he only shakes his head very slightly. I turn to Daniel and pause, unsure of how this will go. "This is Eric's father and mother, Daniel and Blythe."

Daniel looks up at my mother and stands, wiping his hands quickly. "It's lovely to meet you. I didn't catch your name?" He takes her hand and shakes it, while Blythe smiles up from her seat.

"Eden," my mother announces. "It's wonderful to finally get to meet the parents of my son-in-law." She glances at him quickly, and frowns slightly as she looks back to Daniel. "I'm afraid I don't know the first thing about you two."

Daniel beams at her, and I can tell he's thrilled that she wants to continue chatting. For a moment I'd feared he wouldn't want to meet her, not that she's anything terrifying. But he's been watching her obliviously adorn Eric and me with very Amity symbols, and I'm worried he might have found that offensive.

It's not the case, however. They talk for a while before I hear Daniel announcing what Blythe does, and finally his own occupation. My mother's eyes widen when he explains about the latest surgery he performed, and I know exactly where this is going.

"We have a lot in common," she tells him, and I close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, Eric has craned his head up to look at her, his face alight with dangerous amusement. "I've worked in Amity as an Alternative Medical Specialist for years."

Daniel's expression falters slightly. "Alternative...Medical Specialist?" I watch him swallow, and I can almost see the years of intense medical school training flashing in front of his eyes. "You, uh, so you're a…" he fumbles for a second. "You're a doctor there?"

My mother shakes her head. "I have a small practice out of my home. I treat everything with a more organic, natural method. I specialize in working with herbs, essential oils, anything that promotes spiritual healing. Everly has never had so much as a painkiller in her life," she declares proudly.

Daniel flicks his eyes to me and smiles tentatively and I smile back at him the best I can. My mother has very good intentions. I know she means very well, and I know that she raised me the best way she saw fit. And it's true, I'd never had anything other than vitamins and weird teas until I'd come to Dauntless. I don't want to burst her bubble by telling her that lately I've had more than a few non-organic things injected into me.

Daniel scratches at the back of his neck, and he tilts his head at my mother. He wears the same look of frustration that Eric sported a few times during my training. "What sort of... uh... things do you use?"

My mother looks thrilled he asked. "Anything from the ground is good for the soul. Do you have any idea what sort of healing properties can be found in some of the more commonly known herbs?" She throws a knowing look at me. "There are a few basic ones that grow in the wild throughout Amity. We use them daily in our teas. I had Everly start a fertility tea once she turned sixteen. It's a staple in almost every home in Amity."

I can hear Eric choke on his salad, and Four tries very hard to stifle his laugh as he reaches for his glass. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks, and Tris throws me a distressed look, obviously sharing in my mortification at this announcement.

I attempt to avoid Daniel's stare, noting that he looks a tiny bit horrified.

"A fertility tea? What's in it? Isn't that a little…dangerous? How do you make it?" he asks, wobbling between consternation and curiosity. Blythe is still staring at us, but her expression has changed somewhat. She doesn't look as complacent as before; in fact, she's starting to look more than just a bit annoyed.

It might be because Arlene nearly knocks her over in an attempt to move closer to my mother and Daniel.

"How does one go about ordering this fertility tea?" Arlene asks casually, or what would be casual for Arlene. Her gaze flashes to Eric and me before she elbows her way closer to my mother.

"No!" Eric barks at her. "Arlene, go sit down."

She smiles widely, and shakes her head at Eric. He moves to stand, but I try hard to hold him in place.

"Why on earth would you be concerned about such a tea, Arlene?" Blythe pipes up from her seat, her spine rigid. She presses her lips together and shakes her head at Arlene. "That's the last thing you should be worried about."

"I don't think you should be at all concerned with what I worry about," Arlene snaps back at her.

I watch as an indignant expression crosses Blythe's face. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it suddenly. I'm taken aback for a moment; I didn't think there was anyone who could render Blythe speechless.

Arlene turns her focus back on my mother. "I'd like to know more. Please send the information to my office. Daniel can give you my email." She pats him on the shoulder and throws me a knowing look before sauntering back to wherever she came from. Blythe gives her a foul look as she walks by, but she stays silent.

Daniel shakes his head at his wife for a moment before he gestures for my mother to continue. "Sorry about that. You were saying?"

"Red raspberry leaf, green tea, nettle leaf, peppermint leaf, chasteberry…" my mother answers, droning on and on, and before long Daniel is again struggling to maintain a neutral expression. "Do you ever use any alternative methods? You could come by sometime if you'd like to learn more. They might be useful in your practice."

Tris and I lock eyes, and for one horrific moment I think Daniel might just take her up on that offer. I want to warn him that he should stay far, far away. I can just picture him now, stuck full of acupuncture needles with sage burning around him. I'm saved when a server politely steps between them, handing my mother a cup of hot water.

"You asked for this? Unfortunately, we don't have any raw ginger root."

My mother nods and turns back to Daniel. "You'll have to excuse me. Johanna and I were just about to have some tea. I'll come back in a bit." He nods and politely waves her off, watching her walk away, his lips pressed together. I can tell he's graciously biting back all his Erudite knowledge.

He sits back down beside his wife, trying to process what just happened.

"Why didn't you tell me your mother was the Head Potions Master in Amity," Eric announces gleefully. I sit down next to him, and I narrow my eyes. "Now I know why you like those books so much."

"She's not a wizard," I inform him testily. "She just doesn't believe in modern medicine. Almost no one in Amity does," I point out. I reach for my wine glass and take a very large drink. I wonder if there's a way for me to corner Johanna and beg for her to keep my mother away from Eric's father for the rest of the dinner.

"She really gave you fertility tea?" Eric elbows me, leaning in. He sounds a little curious, but I'm sure he's more terrified than anything else. "And you willingly drank it?"

"I didn't know that's what it was until last year, shortly before my Choosing Ceremony. She had told me it would help me wake up," I answer him grumpily, not really wanting to discuss the tea. It had been a rough morning the day I'd finally discovered what I was actually drinking, and thus the reason why I hadn't ever felt any more awake after I was done. "I haven't taken it in over a year, not since I found out, so don't worry." Out of the corner of my eye I watch Arlene and Max talking furiously, and I turn my attention back to my salad.

"How fitting. Both of our mothers are insane," Eric mutters, not trying very hard to keep it under his breath. I watch Four's head jerk up, and he tilts his head in Eric's direction. Four has had more than a few drinks throughout this evening, probably in an attempt to endure this dinner with Tris's father in the room. He stares at Eric for a moment before he speaks.

"At least neither of them kidnapped your wife and tried to wipe her memory." Four's seat is close enough to Eric's and mine that we can both hear him mutter the words. Tris looks startled; she shoves him slightly before she reaches to move his glass away.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have been sneaking out and helping her," Eric snarls at him, and I watch as he clenches his hands into fists. Blythe is still listening, and she's now glowering at everyone, clearly unimpressed with everything around her.

"I wasn't aware of what she was planning." Four's voice is a little louder now, defending himself to Eric. "I wouldn't have agreed to any of that."

"Oh, right. You would have suddenly found some balls and disobeyed Mommy," Eric says with heavy sarcasm, while rolling his eyes at Four. Four's face reddens and he abruptly pushes his chair back.

"Four," Tris elbows him. "Now is not the time." Her voice seems to reach across the table, and Blythe's head snaps up.

Blythe turns to face her first victim of the night, and she zeros in on him. "Did you say Four? What kind of ridiculous name is Four? You walk around with a number for a name?" She makes a face of displeasure, her stare cold and unimpressed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Daniel reacts before anyone else can. He stands abruptly, patting her arm and reaching for her wine glass. "Blythe, I'll get you some more to drink. Sit tight," he tells her.

Four glares at her murderously, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms. Blythe stares right back at him.

It's in this moment, when she finally begins to show her true colors, that I finally realize who Blythe reminded me of when we first got here, and why: she had seemed just like my own mother, happily oblivious on a high dose of peace serum. Eric's father had obviously slipped her something, and it's the only reason she's been tolerable thus far. He must have given her peace serum, or maybe some other sort of mood-altering medication, something to take the edge off of her. I feel a rush of affection for the man; it's obvious he cares enough about Eric that he wanted to be here, but wouldn't come without his wife. This must have been the best solution he could think of, and I have to applaud his ingenuity. Unfortunately, at this point it has clearly worn off, and her usual sharp-tongued personality has returned in full force.

I'm surprised Eric hasn't noticed, but his attention is elsewhere. Andrew, however, is paying rapt attention to the altercation brewing between Four, Eric, and Blythe.

"Four," Eric barks, "Shut up and stop glaring at my mother before I permanently wipe that glare off your face." He then points at his mother and raises his eyebrow. "Blythe, go find Daniel before Number Boy tries to punch you."

Neither of them move, but it doesn't matter. Tris grabs Four's arm, and all but drags him out of his seat. "Come with me to get another drink," she tells him, looking at me sympathetically. Blythe huffs in her seat, crossing her arms. "Uncouth Dauntless heathens," she mutters to herself under her breath.

"I'm not moving," she finally snaps at Eric. She seems to calm down a bit when Four and his offensive name retreat from the table, and she resumes eating her salad and gazing around the room suspiciously.

I reach for Eric's arm and tug on it until he turns to me. His eyes are so wide that I can barely see the piercing above his eyebrow, and he looks as though he's close to stabbing the next person that dares to come near him. I discreetly move the large steak knife away from him.

"Happy Anniversary," I tell him sweetly, and he looks at me as though I have lost my mind. "I can't think of any other way I'd rather celebrate." I try not to giggle at him; this dinner has reached a whole new level of excitement, and we haven't even eaten the main course yet.

"I can," Eric informs me haughtily, and he bends down to press his lips to my own.

 

 

I find Eric's father next to the bar, and he's swirling Blythe's wine around in her glass. He grins at me for a moment, and I swear he looks sheepish.

"Hey there," he throws out casually, noting that my eyes are on the glass in his hand. The liquid doesn't really look that much different, but I can tell he's mixed something into it.

"Did you give your wife something so she'll be nice?" I ask him quietly, finally looking up at him. He smiles at me, and I can tell he's embarrassed, but he nods his confession.

"I couldn't have come without her. She would never have forgiven me. But I couldn't just bring her with me. I wanted her to enjoy herself and forget about all the bullshit that she seems to focus on." He sighs, and I realize he's looking at Eric. I turn so I can see Eric talking with Arlene, and she's enthusiastically making some sort of gesture at him. "I know deep down she cares for him, and she wants nothing but the best for her son. She just wasn't expecting you to be what was best for him."

Daniel swirls her glass one more time. Blythe is now talking with Arlene and Eric, her lips pressed tightly together. Eric doesn't look thrilled that either woman is hovering over him, and I feel for him. Blythe shakes her head, and Arlene reaches forward to touch his forehead. I watch him slap her hand away and he points at her threateningly.

"Thank you," I tell Daniel, and he looks at me, surprise on his face.

"For what?" he asks.

"For coming. And for bringing her, even if you did have to slip her something." I smile at him, moving to the side as the staff works their way past us, their hands full of dinner plates.

Daniel nods at me and nudges my arm. "What do you say we go rescue your husband?"

 

 

Max makes a toast as soon as the dinner is served.

He stands beside Arlene, and he glances around the room while he waits until everyone finally quiets down. For a moment I'm worried about what he will say, that maybe his speech will be something terribly embarrassing. Maybe he'll announce that he and Arlene somehow arranged our whole marriage from the start, or maybe he'll inform everyone that he was the one who practically forced me onto Eric.

Instead, I'm pleasantly surprised when he finally starts speaking.

His speech is only a few sentences long, but there's genuine affection to his words. He finishes up by wishing us a lifetime of happiness, and congratulating us on finding each other. Everyone in the room is beaming at us, and my mother looks downright teary-eyed.

The only person who doesn't smile is Eric, but his grip on my waist has grown painfully tight, and he doesn't let go even after Max stops talking.

 

 

My mother stops by once more after we finish eating. She doesn't stay long, but she does hand me a large gift bag, and I decide in that moment that I'll wait until we are home to open it. With my luck, it will be something utterly mortifying, or something alive.

She leaves quickly, kissing my forehead and heading off with Andrew towards the bar. I use the quiet to my advantage. I scoot closer to Eric, and he moves his arm so it's around my shoulders. "Are you having fun?" I ask him teasingly. He looks down out of the corner of his eye, and he relaxes the tiniest bit.

"Tons," he says shortly.

I work my way even closer, as close as I can be without fully sitting on his lap. He leans back a bit and I let my fingers trail down his side, looping into the waistband of his slacks. I pull on it gently, and Eric sighs beside me.

"How long do you want to stay here?" he asks irritably. He's watching the room carefully, and for the first time tonight we are mostly alone. Blythe and Daniel have moved to the other side of the room and are talking with Cara while Blythe downs her wine, and Four and Tris are now sitting with Karl, Sophia, and Courtney. Max is nowhere to be found, and Arlene is talking about God only knows what with my mother, Andrew, and Johanna. I make a mental note to ask her about her weird tea obsession and her snapping at Eric's mother. I've heard her yell at plenty of people before, but her words with Blythe seemed personal.

"We could leave after dessert?" I offer up. My fingers slide into his pants, and I work my hand down the fabric of his silky boxers. Eric leans back slightly, unconsciously spreading his legs under the tablecloth, which is concealing his lap from view. I grin up at him, making sure no one is paying any attention to us. I can't help but think back to our night in the bar when he touched me under the table and nearly drove me crazy, finishing things up in front of the cameras by the chasm. I give a quick glance over to Four to make sure he's not watching...again.

For once, no one in Dauntless is even looking in our direction.

"Unless you're feeling adventurous now..." My voice is husky as I stretch up to whisper in his ear.

Eric inhales sharply when my palm slides over him, taking him in my hand. I squeeze him for a second, before I move my hand up and down, stroking him slowly. I can feel the muscles in his thighs tighten, and his hips move forward.

"What are you doing, Everly?" He says my name quietly through gritted teeth, and one of his hands grasps the back of my neck, leaning in to continue in my ear, "I hope you aren't starting something you can't finish, Amity."

His words send a rush of warmth and amusement through me, taking me back to the first time I ever shoved my hand down his boxers while he was sleeping.

"Don't worry, we're gonna finish this at home in bed, not in the middle of the compound," I respond with a pointed look and a suggestive smile. I slow my motions and he lets out a sound of frustration. I move my hand out of his pants, and he bends down to roughly pull my face towards him.

"Cute," he mutters, before kissing me for a moment. We're rudely interrupted by a server, dropping off a large plate of chocolate cake.

 

 

"Who's the woman from Erudite?" I ask Eric. We've just about finished our cake, and I notice she's back, walking alongside Daniel and Blythe.

Eric tears his gaze away from his dessert and looks over at the woman who's talking with his parents. Her golden blonde hair is neatly parted and pulled back, and her dress is very sharp. I've watched her silently take in everything going on around her, and I can tell from all her inquisitive stares that she's an Erudite. She glances our way every so often, but there's no judgment in her look. She seems to be having a good time, and she smiles at me every time our eyes meet.

"Cara," he informs me, managing to stop eating his cake for a moment. "She's the front runner to be the newest leader of Erudite." He stares at her critically for a moment. "She's smart, but she's also compassionate. Something Jeanine wasn't capable of being."

I nod at him, leaning towards him until my head touches his shoulder. The party is still in full swing, but I'm starting to feel tired.

"Where's Ashley?" I ask him, trying to sound like I don't care. Part of me doesn't, but another part of me would have enjoyed rubbing our anniversary in her face.

Eric shrugs. "She was probably reassigned to work in another section. When and if Cara's elected, she'll pick her own assistants, and I doubt Ashley would be someone she would choose." He stops and smirks at me. "Were you waiting for her to drop off an anniversary present?"

I nod. "I'm still waiting. I'll give her until tomorrow."

Eric snorts and reaches to pull me closer to him. I glance around the room, taking in everyone still celebrating. My mother is still engrossed in some sort of conversation, but now she's got Jack as her audience. Eric's parents and Cara are quietly talking, and every so often Daniel smiles. Four and Tris are talking to Harrison, who looks rather intense but still pleased. Jason, Rylan, and Christina are clustered by the bar, drinking and laughing together.

From beside Andrew, Arlene smiles at me, and I can't help but grin at her. I hadn't given too much thought to how we would celebrate our anniversary; I'd simply assumed it would involve me, Eric, and our bed. This dinner has been a pleasant surprise, despite all the craziness.

Eric's grip on my side tightens. "You want to head home?" He says the words quietly, and I nod against him. I feel him rest his head against mine, and the idea of heading back to our apartment and falling into bed with him sounds like a nice way to end the night.

Before either of us can move to leave, Max reappears, and the look on his face makes my stomach drop.

He bends down to Eric, and he tries to speak quietly, but I can hear every word he says.

"Evelyn's been spotted."

 

 

 

 

 

This Outtake might be my favorite one so far.

It's got a tiny bit of insight into Eric's life before Dauntless, and a tiny bit of insight into the beast that is Blythe.

 

:)

 

Eric walks away from the bowls without so much as a glance in our direction.

I sit beside my wife as she stiffly watches him, her face pinched in displeasure, even though his departure isn't unexpected. We'd known for some time now, long before there was even talk of his aptitude test, that he would choose another faction. It was predetermined; my wife's sister had made sure of it. She believed Eric was just what she needed to help her maintain complete order amongst the factions.

I watch my son walk away, his face turning smug and his shoulders thrown back. Arrogance runs strongly through Eric, but it's well-deserved. He's brilliant, cunning even. He knows that failure has never been an option. Even if something should go awry during training, he'll still be able to fall back on the promises of his aunt. She will stop at nothing to make sure that Eric becomes a leader in Dauntless.

I sigh, throwing a tight smile at Blythe as she keeps her stare trained on him.

He is our only son, and he's proven to be more than enough. Even as a small child, his presence threw a wrench into our plans. I'd often felt that we slighted him; we both hold positions that require an intense amount of attention, leaving little time for him. It hadn't gone unnoticed, either. He'd grown up with a rather cavalier attitude towards us, never really respecting our position as his parents. Blythe hadn't planned for Eric to be in her life, and she had had a rough time with him. He'd always been headstrong, beyond what one typically expects from a child, but I had found him to wonderfully challenging. He's fascinatingly stubborn and witty, wise beyond his teen years.

It's merely my opinion, but I find the choosing age to be miserably young. No one in their right mind can choose their entire future at such a flimsy age. Their brains aren't even finished developing yet; they lead with their emotions as they make their way towards adulthood. I could often see it in Eric; his neurons firing to make new synaptic connections and his brain pathways being refined as he sat, angrily chewing his dinner. His intelligence causes him to feel far superior, but the emotional side of him hasn't quite caught up. The conflict in his mind is startlingly visible as it is with anyone his age. I've seen it with the girls that traipsed after him. He knew what they wanted, but he was smart enough to manipulate the situations until he got the outcome he desired. They always caved, and he always won.

Always.

It was no wonder Jeanine wanted him.

I clap quietly, my palms almost itchy as he takes a seat amongst the sea of black. He's by no means small, and he fits in well with the city's soldiers.

I close my eyes for a moment, imagining him during their training. He'll easily smash the competition, mentally and physically. I catch Jeanine's eye from across the room, her stare tight and pleased. Her controlled temperament is well on display here. She sits perfectly straight, not allowing herself to relax at all. She's only here to make sure Eric chooses Dauntless, and she has the barest hint of a satisfied smirk on her face.

I watch my son cast his eyes in my direction one final time. They are cold and grey, and I'm not surprised when he doesn't look at his mother.

 

 

I get updates sporadically.

He's doing great; he's smart and fast, powerful and lethal. He's easily annihilated more than half the class, and he and a young man from Abnegation dominate the top of the rankings. I know it must make him furious to be ranked so closely with the Abnegation boy. He despises that faction as though he finds it personally offensive. Perhaps he does. They sacrifice their intelligence for their selflessness. It's an insult in Eric's mind.

On a Tuesday, after I've picked a man's skull apart to delve far into the soft tissue, I receive an email from Max. He and I are long acquainted; I'd helped his father after he'd developed early onset dementia. It was startling to see the once-powerful military commander stumbling around, unable to recall where he was. I'd found his brain fascinating, the smooth tissue revealing more than we could have ever hoped for. But Max isn't emailing me about that, he's emailing me to let me know that Eric will be ranked second.

I read the words a few times, wondering how Eric's handling that. Sometimes my stomach tightens when I think of him. He's been promised so much, given so much ammunition for his aunt's plans, that it's hard to remember he is still a young, impressionable boy.

The boy from Abnegation had managed to beat him during one of the final fights, and combined with his astounding fear simulation scores, had earned enough of an edge point-wise to slip past Eric.

Max wrote his congratulations beneath his words.

It doesn't matter; Eric has long been promised everything he could want. I'm certain a leadership position will be offered to him regardless of his second ranking, and he'll take it without a second thought.

 

 

The next time I see him, I barely recognize him.

Gone is the young boy that left Erudite, replaced by a self-assured man who doesn't know the word 'no'. I watch him walk through the hospital hallways with his head high and his shoulders back. His spine is pulled perfectly straight, and he seems to take up the whole hallway.

He's intimidating, not just because he's now heavily muscled and brutally strong. It's his personality, every ounce of softness sucked out of him to make him into a ruthless leader. He'd never had much to begin with, but this Eric is nothing more than a focused machine.

I push the chair back from my desk and stand, realizing he's walking right past my office without stopping.

It takes me a second to stop myself from following after him, knowing that it's been four long years since I've seen him, and I have almost nothing to say that he'll want to hear.

 

 

Jeanine is pleased with him up until he turns twenty-four.

Blythe keeps tabs on him as though she's waiting for him to fuck up, and at times it seems she truly is. I've watched her idly read her sister's updates on her tablet before bed. She tries to pretend they mean nothing, that she's simply staying informed because it would be unwise not to. But I know what she's doing.

This year is different. Eric has seemed bored, but it all comes to a halt when Jeanine informs us that the time has come for her to reap the benefits of her nephew being in the position he is in. I swallow down the ribs that I'm eating, feeling a sticky sharpness in my throat. For a long time, my sister-in-law had been nothing more than a mad scientist. She'd waxed crazy theories and ideas, utterly useless plans for world domination in a world that doesn't need them.

I'd mentioned to her, once, that she should be careful.

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself. You'll be your own downfall."

But Jeanine had looked at me as though she'd never heard anything more asinine in her life. Despite her obvious contempt for my words, they were true. Her mind worked at such a warp speed that she failed to consider whether her ideas actually had any merit. Most of them were rather nightmarish, but Blythe had warned me to keep quiet. Jeanine did not take kindly to anyone who dared question her.

"She'll take it out on Eric. You want to wake up and discover he's been assigned to be her next test subject?" I listen to my wife's words, wishing they held some sort of warmth in them. Over time, she's grown just as cold as her sister, and I know her concern does not lie with Eric. She simply doesn't want him to create a problem for her.

But Eric turns twenty-four, and suddenly he is storming around Erudite with a pissed off expression. He never comes by my office, and he only sees Blythe once.

It's easier this way.

 

 

It all falls apart when there's a girl, and I sigh into my coffee.

Of course it's a girl.

Even Eric, the heartless, ruthless man who I'd once watched beat answers out of a man that was found to be crossing Erudite, isn't immune to the biggest puzzle of them all.

Women.

He's been assigned to train some young girl, the lone female transfer, and it's eating up all his time and attention. Jeanine mentions it over breakfast; the girl is from Amity, and that seems to make it all the more offensive.

"There's nothing to gain by him training her. Let someone else deal with the little farm girl." She takes a long drink of her black coffee, and she exhales sharply. "He hasn't responded to my emails in three days." Her tone tells me she's growing weary of his lack of attention to her. She's never dealt with insubordination, especially from a family member. Everyone around her is too afraid to cross her, but Eric must have a good reason to have not contacted her.

I can see Blythe's spine straighten, and an ounce of sympathy flashes through me. It's not her fault, but Jeanine will find a way to make it seem so. Jeanine's words are carefully chosen; it's obvious that the reason she's asked us to breakfast is to push this into Blythe's mind.

"I'll call him later," I announce, reaching for the papers on the table. I rather enjoy reading about all the factions, and today is no exception. "Maybe the girl is hard to deal with."

Jeanine makes a tsking sound, one that tells me Eric should have his priorities straight.

"Call him now," Blythe snaps, pushing her eggs around her plate. "You'll get an answer out of him."

It's true. As of late, Eric's been slightly more receptive to me than to his mother, likely for no reason other than that I'd occasionally sided with him. Blythe had always expected so much from him, and while I had agreed most of the time, there was also an importance to blowing off steam. I'd pressed for him to have other activities besides studying, but Blythe had usually won out.

"After breakfast," I dismiss the two of them as I open up the paper. Jeanine doesn't bother me as much as she bothers Blythe. Her words are intimidating and so are her stares, but they're empty. Aside from my wife, she has no real support system. She can order everyone around based off the threat of harm, but it doesn't work on me. I'm actually surprised it works on Blythe.

The waitress drops off our bill, and I hand her my card before either woman can say anything else.

"What's the girl's name?" I ask, more curious than anything. I haven't heard from Eric in some time, but I'm wondering if his distractedness stems from her.

"Everly." Jeanine says the name curtly, and I make a mental note of it.

The rest of the breakfast slides by uneasily, a heavy tension in the air that no one is willing to acknowledge.

 

 

Eric finally calls sometime after seven.

I almost miss the call. I'm sitting in my study, poring over some notes from today. I meant to do this earlier, but my meetings ran over. I'm lucky that Blythe is eating dinner with a lady from her work; the night is quiet, and it gives me enough peace to work uninterrupted.

I jerk my head up when I hear the buzzing coming from the side of my computer, and I notice my phone is lit up. I catch his name across the screen, and I scramble to answer the phone.

"Eric," I greet him, moving some papers out of my way. "How are you?"

I idly cross a few things off my to-do list, noting I've made major progress since I've been home. I listen to him offer up a few bits of information. He mentions a few times that she's from Amity, and lets it slip that he hadn't really wanted to train her, but that Max had offered her up as a challenge. I can tell he's reluctantly proud that she's still there, and my attention sharpens when he says her name.

"Everly keeps falling asleep. She's asleep now."

It's unlike him to offer up any sort of information on anything, and I stop, realizing he's told me not only her name but that she's sleeping. There's the barest hint of concern in his voice, and I glance at the clock.

7:15.

"Does she normally go to bed early?" I keep my voice professional, nearly clinical. He's more likely to respond if I don't make this personal. For a moment, it works.

"No. But she's been falling asleep early lately. She might not have it in her to make it through the training." His words are cold and harsh, and I note the change in his voice. I can only imagine the rigorous training he's put her through. I've studied what I could about their initiation process. The intense physical and mental challenges seem rigorous, even for those born into the Dauntless faction. I try to picture this young girl attempting them.

"What does she look like?" I cock my head to the side, listening hard for Blythe. If she's home, I don't want her in here, furiously whispering in my ear. He'll know the minute the questions aren't mine.

"Why?" he snaps, and I can tell he's irritated. "Do you know her?"

"I don't. I'm only trying to get a visual here. I could just look her up," I answer him. I do have half a mind to look her up in the database. I wonder if she's ever been seen at any of the hospitals or medical centers. It would be easiest to look her up there first.

"She's small. She looks like she's from Amity. And she's always sleeping." He says the last part resentfully, and I wonder if he would prefer her awake. For someone that didn't want to train her, he is suspiciously invested in her well-being. "She has dark hair."

He offers up the last part on his own, and I hover my fingers over the mouse. I fight the urge to search for her.

"Maybe go easier on her. Maybe you're wearing her out." I offer the words up, even though I know they are meaningless. Mindless small talk to keep him on the phone. I want him to tell me more. He's obviously thought about her hair color enough for it to be mentionable.

"She's fine. But she won't survive here if she can't make it through the training. I just don't need her falling asleep on my couch every night."

I freeze at his last words, wondering if he's aware of what he just uttered out loud.

She's with him, on his couch. She must be staying with him in his apartment.

My brain works frantically, piecing together what I can from the minimal information he has provided. I can't think of any initiation process where the initiates stay with their trainers. Not to mention the fact that Eric leads the most militant faction of all. I doubt he's supposed to have her curled up on his couch, fast asleep.

"Is she eating enough?" I try to think of a reason she'd be that tired, other than him physically exhausting her. She could be consuming far too few calories, or she could have developed some sort of anemia. "Is she sleeping well? Sometimes sleep deprivation can cause …"

I don't finish because he interrupts me.

"I have to go. I need to finish some things before I go to bed." His words are clipped, and I nod even though he can't see me. I can tell he's done and I will get nothing more from him. Sometimes talking with him is less like talking to my own son and more like talking to a temperamental stranger. "And she's eating enough. I'm making sure of it."

"Alright. Well, take care, Eric. Keep me updated on her progress."

He's quiet for a long moment, and I can almost hear the mockery in the silence. I have no right to be kept up to date on what he's doing, and I certainly have no need to know about his trainee.

"Right. Goodnight."

He hangs up abruptly, and my fingers fly to my keyboard.

 

 

A few minutes later, and I'm torn.

I've found her in the Amity database. She's listed as being an in-process transfer to Dauntless, and the photo of her is recent, taken sometime before her aptitude test.

I examine the photo as though I'm looking at a patient profile. She's young, obviously just having transferred, and she's not what I would have expected. Her hair is very long and very dark. She doesn't quite look like she's from Amity, but there's a definite calmness about her that somehow comes through the photo.

She looks nothing like Ashley.

I squint at the photo, trying hard not to compare the two girls. I've known Ashley for some time now, and Everly appears to be the exact opposite of her. I'd always thought Ashley would find a way to end up with Eric. The girl was smart and crafty, and she was the only one Eric seemed to take the time to gift his attention to whenever he returned to Erudite. Ashley holds the same sort of presence he does, one that dares people to ask for an ounce of her interest.

This girl is much smaller, and almost too innocent-looking for Eric.

Everly is analogous to a lone flower in the middle of a battlefield, and I can't help but wonder if she'll last through his training. Even if she manages to pass the initiation, will she be strong enough to thrive there? There's also the concern that everything she's ever known is so different. She'll be forced to adapt to an environment that is the exact opposite of the one in which she grew up.

And all beneath Eric

 

 

The updates come fewer and farther between.

Max is busy, Eric is busy, and Jeanine is busy. I try to ignore the lingering dread that seems to grow every time I see Jeanine. She seems to be retreating even further into her own mind, and I watch Blythe try to keep up with her.

On a Wednesday, Blythe stops by the hospital. I take a moment to stare at her, hovering in my doorway, her fingers grazing over the name plaque hanging on my wall. She's dressed up even more so than normal, and I don't doubt that she's seen her sister today.

"He likes her," she says distantly, her voice low. She's unimpressed at best, and her stare flicks over to me. "He's going to mess this up, you know."

"What will he mess up?" I turn my attention away from my laptop and the blinking emails in my inbox. I have much left to do before I leave today, but I won't get anything done if my wife is here. "Her training?"

"Forget about her training," Blythe all but sneers. "He's distracted by her. He's let her become his main focus, rather than what he agreed to work on."

"He's a grown man, Blythe. He wasn't even seventeen when he agreed to take the position. Priorities change." I lean back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other. I focus on my royal blue dress socks for a quiet moment. "You can't expect him to never feel anything for anyone. So he likes her. There's nothing wrong with that."

The thought has crossed my mind a few times. She isn't anyone I would have ever pictured Eric with, but maybe she appeals to him for reasons I can't grasp. Maybe he enjoys her because she is so unlike him. "Maybe he's happy with her."

It's the wrong thing to say. Blythe recoils, her face revealing her displeasure.

"She's a child. From Amity. If she wants to sit in a field and pick flowers, she doesn't need to drag Eric along with her." Blythe's words are pointed, and I feel them prick at my skin. I sigh, looking up at my wife. Everly is certainly no child, and I seriously doubt she has the power to convince Eric to head to a field in search of flowers. I bite back the words that she's chosen Dauntless, and that picking flowers isn't one of their typical activities: it's pointless to argue with Blythe.

"Did you eat lunch?" I ask her, attempting to change the subject.

She shakes her head and I stand up, pushing my chair back. "Care to accompany me to the cafeteria?" I give her a warm smile, hoping to distract her. Blythe isn't stupid, but she goes along with the idea, resigning herself when she realizes I'm not biting at her argument today.

"Alright."

I move to close out my computer, minimizing the dozen windows I have open. I hesitate over the last one when I see it's a message from Eric. I have to stop myself from checking it now; Blythe will only want to analyze it until she's blue in the face.

 

 

When Eric turns twenty-five, word comes that he's married the girl.

I stare at the email from Max. It's carefully worded, and if I read between the lines, it tells me that this decision is very much Eric's and there is little anyone could do about it. He ends it by offering his congratulations, and he tells me that I'm lucky to have such a sweet girl for a daughter-in-law.

My phone rings before I finish reading it, and I don't have to look to know it's Blythe

 

 

I straighten the tie around my neck, ignoring the fact that it feels like a noose at this moment. It's fancier-looking than what I'd typically wear, but it accents the dining jacket Blythe's laid out for me. I tighten it, taking more time than necessary to get ready.

The jacket goes on next, and I examine myself in the mirror, trying to mentally predict how this dinner will go. I've already made up my mind to try to remain at ease; this won't go well if either Eric or Everly feels attacked, and I know Blythe is already on the defensive. For someone who spends most of her time analyzing the emotions of others, she's rather poor at figuring out her own son.

"Are you ready?" She comes up to stand beside me, and I realize she's dressed up even more than when she meets with Jeanine. Her hair is perfectly smooth, with no trace of the slightly wavy pieces that she shares with Eric. She looks unapproachable, even more so tonight.

I nod at her, and I can only hope that she manages to be civil.

She throws a stern look in the mirror, and my stomach sinks, knowing without a doubt that this will not go well.

Everly doesn't stand a chance.

 

 

We're rather early, but it gives me time to scope out the room. For a moment I'm glad we're overly punctual: I'll be able to catch a glimpse of her before she sees us. It's an unfair advantage, but so far I've managed to resist digging up anything else on her.

I see them before Blythe does.

They walk in together and I'm taken aback to discover Eric's almost smiling. In fact, he looks at her as though she's the only thing in the room.

It doesn't take but a few seconds for me to be sure that his decision to marry her was his and his alone. Eric stares at her, his expression softer than anything I've ever seen on him. It isn't a full-blown, obvious display of affection, but it's a far cry from the irritated glare he normally sports.

I can tell she's happy, her head tilted towards him. Judging by the way she stays close to him, both of her hands gripping his much larger one, it's clear that they have been close for a while. I've never seen Eric openly affectionate, but his grip on her hand is tight. He walks with his shoulders straight and his eyes fixed on her. It's clear that he's proud of her, his tiny wife who looks positively thrilled to be here. She's beaming at us, her eyes finding us waiting for them, and I half-expect her to wave.

It makes it feel all the worse when Blythe opens her mouth, and I watch any chance of getting to know Everly slip away.

 

 

I email him nine times, and I call him six times before he crankily answers the phone.

"I think I'm good on dinners for now." His words have a nastiness to them, and I don't blame him. Blythe had made her point loud and clear. She would never accept that he had been the one to prosecute Jeanine, she would never accept that he had been the one perform her execution even though she had been found guilty of some truly terrible things. She would never accept his marriage, and she would certainly never accept his wife.

Her words had been sharp enough that the poor girl had looked startled, her large eyes wide as Blythe tore into her.

Eric hangs up rather shortly after he answers, and the request to not call him again, though unspoken, is loud and clear.

So I don't call.

I give him some time, enough for him to calm down.

I kiss Blythe goodbye on her cheek, and I arrange for a car to pick me up at work, a few hours earlier than I'd normally leave.

It won't take me long to get to Dauntless, and with any luck I'll find Eric by dinner time.

 

 

The Dauntless guards wave me through automatically. It's no surprise, given that I wave an Erudite badge at them that boasts a medical clearance. It grants me access to the medical centers in every faction. I make a note to stop by and say hello to Arlene before I leave. It'll serve to validate my visit, and it'll be good to see her again.

I know the route I need to take, and I walk with purpose. Lazily strolling through Dauntless will draw unnecessary attention to myself. Someone from Erudite nosing around would immediately be considered suspect, especially after Jeanine's fiasco.

It's unfortunate for me.

Dauntless is architecturally interesting: huge, with marbled walls and cavernous hallways. I'd like to take my time and inspect some of the features, but I press onwards until I'm at the center of the compound. I patiently wait after pushing the elevator call button, and I smile idly as a few members pass by without comment.

The elevator doors slide open, and to my surprise and delight, I find Eric's wife standing there.

I smile at her, pleased that I've nearly walked right into one of the two people I came to see. Her eyes seem to widen at the sight of me, and for a moment she looks panicked. I'm sure she's waiting for Blythe to pop out from behind me, ready to attack.

I hold my palms up to her as I take a step into the elevator, and she gives me a polite smile. I want to tell her it's just me, that I have nothing cruel or hurtful to say to her, but it feels like a betrayal of Blythe. I want to tell Everly that my wife's rudeness wasn't about her. In truth, any woman chosen by Eric would have suffered the same awful treatment, simply because she would be a distraction from his meticulously programmed path.

"Hello, Everly," I greet her gently, not wanting her to bolt. I don't think she's afraid of me, but I know she can't be thrilled to see me. Either way, she looks like she's trapped.

"Hello," she answers me carefully, stepping aside as though she might step out of the elevator. I'm pleased when she doesn't.

"What floor are you headed to?" I reach for the buttons, ready to push number nine. I watch as she hesitates a bit, and I don't blame her. I know Eric is still working. I had planned on stopping by his apartment and seeing if she was there. If she had seemed too uneasy, I would have simply made my way to his office. I really don't want to make this uncomfortable for her.

She's looking at me with her large eyes, and I can tell why Eric likes her. Her whole attention is focused on me, and I can almost imagine the way she must stare up at Eric.

"I'm headed to see Eric. I know he's off work soon, so I had thought I'd drop by his apartment on my way home," I tell her.

She contemplates for a brief moment before she speaks. "I'm headed home."

I nod my head and push the button for the ninth floor. I've heard that she and Eric have been sharing his apartment for some time now. It's clear that their relationship isn't something brand new.

"Does your wife know you're here?" I turn my head at her words. She's asked them quietly, and very tensely. I can only imagine what she's thinking.

"No," I grin at her. "She does not."

"Oh, good." The relief in her voice is obvious, and her whole body relaxes.

I trail after her to the apartment, wondering if Eric enjoys sharing his living space. He certainly likes Everly, enough to have married her, but he's always been one to seek out the quiet. I wonder if he tolerates her presence very well, or if she's just unusually quiet.

I step through their doorway and glance around.

This isn't the first time I've been here. Eric never had to live in any of the lower level apartments, he'd immediately been moved into one of the apartments assigned to a leader after his initiation. I've always been rather unimpressed with most of the living spaces in Dauntless; they're typically dark and ancient, full of mismatched furniture and odds and ends thrown together from the markets. But Eric's apartment is an obvious exception. His is well thought out; he selected his furniture very carefully, and it seems more suited for a faction — any faction — other than Dauntless.

His walls are lined with bookshelves, neatly filled with all sorts of titles. If anyone were to ever wander through here, they'd immediately notice the lingering Erudite presence. I glance at his couch, noting there's a dark grey blanket on it, and his laptop sits atop the coffee table. I try to picture the two of them sitting on his couch together, maybe discussing something while Eric works.

Maybe he does like having her here.

"Would you like something to drink?" My none-too-subtle inspection is interrupted. I find her standing near the kitchen, a funny look on her face.

"Sure. Whatever you've got will be fine." I smile at her, trying to think of a way to lower her defenses. That's a little more Blythe's area of expertise; it's a shame she chose to attack the poor girl instead.

Before I can exchange more than a few words with her, I start receiving texts I must answer, and then my phone rings. I take the call only because it's my surgical assistant; he wouldn't contact me unless it were urgent. When I answer, he sounds worried.

Nearly twenty minutes later, I'm still on the phone. Everly is fumbling around in the kitchen, and there's a certain sweetness to her, though she looks uneasy. It's apparent from watching her attempt to cook that she doesn't do it often. She's scowling at the boiling water in front of her. I would love to stay and observe, but Greg starts asking me about Blythe, and I stand up quickly. He's well aware of how the dinner went, but I feel rude talking about it in front of Everly.

"I'll be right back," I tell her. I head towards the first door I see, amusement flooding through me when I realize it's their bedroom. I scan the room while trying to answer Greg.

"I'm hoping she'll calm down a little," I tell him. My eyes fall to their bed and I feel slightly voyeuristic. It's neatly made with far too many pillows. Her nightstand has all kinds of things I would imagine she would have; a hairbrush, some loose ponytail holders, lotion, and a small vase with some flowers in it. Eric's side is starker. There's nothing but a lamp and his phone charger.

I try to finish up my call quickly. I don't want to be in here when Eric returns home; the last thing I want him to think is that I was sent to snoop through his personal space.

"Thank you. We'll be in touch."

I bid Greg farewell, and I step out through the bedroom door just in time to catch of glimpse of them together.

At dinner there had been no obnoxious displays of affection from either of them. I'd watched her hold his hand and I'd seen him gaze at her, but it had stopped there. They hadn't had the time for anything more: Blythe had sunk her claws in before they'd even had a chance to relax.

In their own element, things are different.

She's backed up against the counter, her hands in his hair as he kisses her. I almost can't see her; Eric dwarfs her in every way, but she doesn't seem to mind. He breaks apart from her the minute he hears my voice, and he turns to me, an accusatory stare on his face.

 

 

Eric watches me eat dinner as though he hopes I might choke on a forkful of pasta.

I ignore his intense glare. I'm well aware that I've encroached on his territory, and that my arrival was unannounced. I want to tell him this is partially his fault, that had he simply agreed to meet again we could have planned something without my having to resort to a surprise visit, but I don't. Instead, I focus on getting to know his wife.

"So, Everly. You're working on completing your leadership program?" I ask her while she's taking a sip of her drink, and I catch the way her eyes flash to Eric first. I can tell she wants to answer me, badly. She's loosened up a little bit since I've been here, perhaps realizing I'm not going to attack her. It makes my stomach turn, the thought that she would fear either of us.

"I am. Right now I'm helping with the newest training class. It feels really good to be back with the initiates," she tells me enthusiastically. I can tell she's proud of what she's doing, and indeed it is quite the accomplishment. The girl from Amity had survived initiation and was now teaching one of the classes. It said a lot about Eric's training, as well as a lot about her.

Eric throws her a nasty look. I get the sudden impression he'd rather she not train the class. I wonder if he prefers she stay here, spending her days waiting for him to return.

"It got pushed back a bit while I was gone, but they're doing really well now," Everly tells me. She's looking at me inquisitively, perhaps wondering if I know what she's alluding to, and I smile at her sympathetically. I'd been given most of the details of what had happened to the poor girl, and my heart had sunk at the news; Blythe, however, had done a terrible job of concealing her hope that Everly might never return. Now, sitting beside me at their dining room table, it's very clear that Everly possesses great strength and resolve, pushing past those terrible events and moving forward with her life.

It's impressive that she's jumped right back into training the class. "I think that's fantastic. There's something about helping shape the minds of your future members that's very fulfilling."

Eric makes a grunting sound.

"Thank you," Everly says, sounding pleased. "I agree."

We eat silently for a moment before Eric takes a very large drink of whatever he's poured into his glass. I want to ask him where he acquired such a fancy palate. The liquid in his glass is dark and strong, and undoubtedly numbing his urge to have me escorted out of Dauntless.

I wish he'd had a little more.

"Why are you here again?"

I ignore the snap in his voice and decide I should verbalize the reason for my visit.

"I wanted to apologize for your mother. I know dinner did not go very well," I pause, and a feeling of guilt flares up through me. I wish I could have warned the two of them. "I thought maybe the three of us could have a few dinners together. Get to know each other."

My intentions are pretty pure. I've spent my whole life trying to find a way to connect with my son. He's managed to keep everyone at arm's distance from him, everyone except for this girl. Everly might be the only person who actually knows Eric.

It doesn't bother me so much as it brings me a sense of relief. He's managed to find someone special, someone who understands him, and I'm determined to get to know her.

Plus, I've never had a daughter before.

Everly is beaming at me, and I feel a rush of warmth for the girl. If I were more manipulative, I'd tuck away this note that she seems to thrive off the lure of family relationships. It's no doubt that she and Eric have their own intense relationship, but I can tell she likes the idea of getting to know me.

"I think that's a really good idea," she announces, smiling brightly at us.

I watch Eric's face darken, and he shakes his head.

"It's not really." He leans back in his chair, and he tightens his jaw. "I don't really need you here as a spy for Blythe."

His words are not unexpected, and I can't really blame him. Shaking my head at him, I say, "You know that's not why I'm here."

"It's exactly why you're here," Eric snaps. I can tell I'm losing ground quickly. It's not that he was overly open before, but he's shutting down rapidly now. "You can't tell me she's not going to grill you the minute you walk in the door. I told you to leave us alone."

I stay still, trying not to provoke him further. "Eric," I pause and sigh. "I'm not your mother. I'm not here to gather any sort of information. I just want to know my daughter-in-law."

He says nothing. He looks downright irritated, his whole face pulled taut.

"You didn't invite us to the wedding. I'd like a chance to at least celebrate with you two." I take a drink of my coffee, trying to stall for a bit of time. "Or, at the very least, I'll meet Everly for lunch now and then. You've had her all to yourself for some time now."

"We didn't really have a wedding that anyone would have been able to attend. I certainly think we could do dinner." Everly is talking to Eric now, her voice sweet-sounding and her stare affectionate. I watch as Eric seems to grit his teeth, and I can see that he has a hard time telling her no.

I would bet he doesn't enjoy that feeling very much.

There's a long pause and Eric slouches in his chair, his fingers toying with the glass in front of him.

He finally sighs, his cold gaze falling to the dark liquid in his glass. "Fine. Two dinners." He says the words crankily and relief washes over me. With Eric, there is always the chance he'll tell me to never return here again, and I know he'd follow through with the threat.

Everly grins at me, looking downright delighted now.

I make the snap decision to not tell Blythe.

 

 

Two days later, I realize not telling my wife might be worse than telling her.

So many times the words almost slip past my lips. I want to share with her the story of my dinner with them, share all of my observations about Eric, that he'd actually seemed happy for once, that he'd agreed to see me again, that I'd watched him reach for Everly as the door shut, pulling her against him and turning to let his head fall towards hers.

But I don't.

I know it won't mean a single thing to her and will only set her off.

She makes a snide comment when Erudite comes a step closer to finding candidates to become our new leader. Something along the lines of 'why don't we just let someone with their head in the clouds run all the factions', and I cringe slightly. I know she's referencing the fact that Everly will one day become a leader in Dauntless. I want to tell her that Everly's head is far from being in the clouds. In fact, Everly might be smarter than anyone has ever given her credit for.

After all, she's managed to figure out Eric.

So I slip past Blythe, keeping my mouth shut and smiling tightly at her.

 

 

I call Eric later that day.

He answers on the second ring, and for once he doesn't sound quite as pissed off as normal. In fact, he almost sounds bored.

"Everly's at dinner with Tris. Otherwise, I'm sure she'd want to say hello." He says the words offhandedly, and I can't help but relish the moments like this where he offers up information on his own. I suggest we meet for dinner sometime next week, and I feel uneasy when he doesn't respond for a moment.

"We have the Leadership Dinner next weekend."

I don't know if that means that the rest of next week is out, but I don't press any further. "Alright. Well, let me know if you have time during the following week."

I can't help the burn of disappointment that I feel, but I don't say much more. Blythe has walked through the door, a handful of papers in her hand and her mouth pressed into a fine line.

"Maybe…maybe Thursday next week." Eric throws out the day unexpectedly, and I'd half-expected him to have hung up. "I know she's looking forward to seeing you again."

The implication is there; it's more Everly that's driven him to agree to dinner. But I'll take it.

"Sure. Just let me know."

Blythe throws me a curious look and I mouth the word "Greg" at her. She rolls her eyes, and waves dismissively. I use her departure to my advantage; I chat with Eric for a few moments longer, making sure to keep the conversation neutral and letting him lead it. By the time we hang up, I've learnt that he's made toast for dinner and he seems to not enjoy Everly being gone.

He says goodbye roughly, hanging up before I can say anything else.

I toss my phone onto my desk, and I sit down at my laptop to schedule a fake appointment with Greg. It'll be more convincing to Blythe if she decides to look through my calendar. Before I can confirm my event on Thursday, my phone dings with an email notification.

I open it and see it's from Max, and I quickly read through the lengthy message, a smile crossing my face.

I confirm my appointment for Thursday.

 

 

On Friday, I stitch an Amity man's scalp back together after performing a craniotomy to remove a small, benign tumor. As I close, I take an indulgent moment to admire the neatness of my work. I then step back to allow the assistant surgical team to finish the remaining tasks; they'll clean and dress the patient's scalp wounds and begin the process of waking him up, injecting a mixture of painkillers, anti-nausea medication, and, in keeping with Amity protocols, peace serum. Peace serum is actually a good idea post-operatively, one I'd recommend for most of my patients if Erudite would allow it. This patient will be more relaxed, less stressed upon regaining consciousness, and ultimately far calmer than most patients who have just had their skull opened up, making recovery a smoother process for all involved.

My stare falls to the syringe in my assistant's hand, the serum dosage carefully titrated to be effective without causing any unnecessary drug interactions. Amity insists that their patients receive a sufficient amount to keep them calm, but the exact amount is left to our discretion. We have to ensure our patients are out of bed and on their way to recovery as quickly as possible, which would be difficult if they were given too much of the serum.

My assistant injects the serum into the bag attached to the patient's IV, and I watch carefully as the solution easily dissolves into the mixture. The man will not be aware that he's been given peace serum, of course, but he ought to feel pretty much the same as he would if he were back in Amity.

I hesitate for a second, an idea suddenly flashing in my mind. I watch the assistant set the syringe aside and nod at me.

It's all that I need to solidify my decision.

 

 

An hour after my patient has been safely transported to the recovery room, I sign out one of the vials of peace serum, clearly assigning it to the patient's name. Only a very small dose will actually go home with him, enough to bridge the small gap until he's able to eat and drink regularly in Amity. His wife will be instructed on how to mix it in with the liquid pain medication being prescribed for him, and she will receive the rest of his medications as the patient is discharged to continue recovering at home.

I carefully separate the serum into two vials, pocketing one as I make my way towards the recovery room. The man's wife is standing outside the door waiting for me to update her, and she smiles as I arrive, seemingly prepared to do whatever it takes to help her husband recover.

I smile back. I'm about to spend the next half an hour with her, giving her careful instructions on what to expect during the recovery period and answering all of her questions. After this, I'll be done for the day. I'll head home, eat dinner with my wife, and go to bed, well-prepared for tomorrow. Blythe won't notice when I take my coat upstairs tonight, and she certainly won't bat an eye when I make her coffee tomorrow afternoon.

Perfect.


	39. Arlene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your patience!  
> This chapter should be worth it; it answers some burning questions ;)
> 
> Enjoy and Happy Saturday!

_Evelyn's been spotted._

For a second, the room seems suddenly quiet. My heart sinks at Max's words. He's looking at Eric with a knowing expression, and I'm sure he's well aware of the repercussions of those very words.

Unbeknownst to her, Evelyn's timing is impeccably shitty. Eric and I were moments away from slipping away from this dinner to go back upstairs, and now I have the sinking feeling Eric is moments away from storming after Four's mother. The woman certainly has a talent for ruining my days.

But Eric seems surprisingly unfazed. He simply nods at Max and stares up at him. "Where?" he asks indifferently, as though he hasn't been the one leading the hunt to find her.

Max smiles tightly, but his posture relaxes a bit. "They caught her on camera. Heading towards the wall."

I watch Eric cock his head to the side for a minute before a pleased look crosses his face. "Well, that certainly didn't take long."

I find myself caught off guard. Neither of them seem overly concerned that she's been spotted; in fact, it almost seems expected. Maybe Eric knows he scared her enough to drive her out of the city. Maybe the threat of the Dauntless army coming after her was enough to make her rethink her attack plans. I sit beside Eric and try to think of where she could go, but I've never been past the Amity fields. I wonder if she took her factionless army with her? Are they planning to attack from wherever they are now? Will Eric and Four go after them?

It's a moment too long before Eric speaks.

"Let her," he announces dismissively. "She won't get past the guards that are stationed out there. When she surrenders, have them bring her to me."

His words have a note of finality to them, and they send a shiver up my spine.

Max nods and moves away after one final glance in my direction.

 

 

The party wraps up when Eric decides he's had enough.

He doesn't make any grand announcements, he simply stands up and pulls me along with him. We move to slip out unnoticed; I hesitate for the briefest of moments at the door, wondering if I should say goodbye to my mother. I don't want to make a scene, but I know she won't let me leave easily. Eric picks up on my hesitancy, and he motions towards her.

"I can wait," he says patiently, following my stare across the room. My mother is still happily talking with everyone, completely lost in conversation. I admire how she lives in the moment; she's thinking of nothing but the people in front of her, happy to be discussing something rather enthusiastically.

"Go say goodbye," Eric finally says, and when I look back at him I realize he's looking at his father. I nod and make the snap decision to grab him and pull him with me. He only hesitates for a second before he reluctantly follows.

We stop at his father first. I know deep down Eric wants to see him, and I want to thank Daniel for coming. I know it took a lot for him to decide to dose his own wife with enough peace serum for her to be pleasant, and I know he did it for Eric's sake. I want him to know how much we both appreciate it, even if one of us won't voice it.

My luck seems to be changing because our timing couldn't be better. Daniel is talking with Cara still, and Blythe is no longer with them. Daniel breaks apart from Cara when he spies us, politely excusing himself. Cara stares at us for a moment, taking us in as she smiles and steps away. I'd like to meet her, and really ask her all kinds of questions, but now is not the time. Daniel meets us halfway, shoving his hands in the pockets of his dinner jacket.

"We just wanted to say goodbye." I smile at Daniel, noting the way his whole face seems to light up. "We're going to head home, and we wanted to thank you for coming. You'll have to come to dinner soon."

Daniel smiles back at me, and it's the sort of smile that tells me his whole night has been made. "I'd love that. I'll make sure we're in touch." He throws a smile at Eric and me, and he nods at Eric. "Congratulations on your anniversary. I'm very happy I was able to be here tonight."

Eric sort of grunts beside me. I let go of his arm and reach out, holding onto Daniel's arm. Daniel looks surprised for a moment, but he lets me hold onto him.

"Do you promise you'll come back for dinner?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He grins at me warmly, and I can tell he'll keep his word. I'm a little surprised when he moves to hug me goodbye; the action is uncomfortable and awkward, probably more on his part. I can tell he's used to touching others in a more clinical manner and less in an affectionate one. I hug him tightly for a moment, letting go just as Eric tersely announces his goodbye.

"I'll call you sometime next week," he offers up gruffly, staring somewhere over Daniel's shoulder. It's not the most heartwarming goodbye, but I get the feeling it's more than his father has gotten out of him in a very long time.

"I look forward to it." Daniel waves us off, and neither of us waits around for Blythe to return.

Instead, we head towards the other side of the room where a small circle of people have congregated. I try to mentally prepare myself for our next goodbye.

My mother is beaming at me, but she's predictably weepy by the time I finally get to her.

She reaches for me, crushing me close to her, and I can barely breathe. She still smells like Amity, and if I close my eyes I could be right back in her house. "You're leaving, aren't you? Oh, I just don't want this night to be over." She's sniffling into my hair, her arms clinging to me tightly. "I swear you just left Amity, and here you are, in a whole other faction, married to one of the leaders."

"Mom." I try to struggle away, but it's useless. She finally relents when Eric clears his throat, his gaze bored and more than slightly impatient.

"Sorry," she murmurs, and she lets her arms drop the tiniest bit. "You'll come visit, right? You and Eric can come stay any time you'd like, for as long as you'd like."

I can hear Eric making some sort of unpleasant sound at the idea, but I nod at her anyway. I'm sure that's exactly what Eric would love to do, spend even more time wandering around the Amity compound, attempting to find something safe to eat. I move to kiss her cheek goodbye. "We'll come visit," I promise her.

She wipes at her eyes, throwing me a watery smile. She finally lets go long enough that I can take a step back, and I feel Eric's hand slip into mine.

"You two enjoy each other tonight. You have a lot to celebrate." My mother's eyes fall to the necklace around my neck, and her eyes light up. "Actually tonight is a great night for your anniversary. It's a full moon. It's one of the best nights for conception."

Eric's grip on my hand suddenly becomes painful, and I try very hard to not look back at him. "Uh, thank you."

My mother opens her mouth to say something else, but the planets really must be aligned because Johanna appears beside her, flashing me a knowing smile. She says a quiet congratulations, and I'm grateful as she pulls my mother along with her, gently guiding her back to the table.

"I'll see you both soon!" my mother calls out, and she throws one final tearful look at us.

"Oh my God," I manage to say, still not daring to look at Eric.

"I'm not going to visit and I certainly am not going to drink any magic tea," Eric announces loudly in my ear. I try to cover my laugh, and I shake my head at him. "Let's go. Before she comes back with something to enhance your performance tonight."

Eric grimaces, and I know for certain that he's had his fill of the night. While the party was wonderful and delightfully unexpected, I don't know if I can handle any more of it, either. I take one final look back as we thread our way out of the room, and I try to burn the image of our family and friends into my brain.

 

 

Eric's pants are off before I can even take my shoes off.

He struts out of the bathroom in his dress shirt and boxers, and loosens his tie as he approaches the bed. I'm standing next to his side of the bed watching him curiously.

"Where are your pants?" I ask him, wondering if he's really just left them in the bathroom. I reach behind my shoulder awkwardly, trying to reach the zipper in the back of my dress, but it's nearly impossible. Eric helped me zip it up before the dinner, and it looks like he'll be helping me unzip it.

Eric leers at me; his grey eyes clear as he realizes what I'm doing. "I won't be needing them anymore." He saunters over until he's behind me, and he reaches to unzip the back of my dress. I feel him pull the zipper down, and he works the fabric apart until I can wiggle out of it. I carefully set the dress on his nightstand.

"I have to find the hanger. I don't want it to end up like your pants," I tell him and he snorts in response.

"Later." Eric steps towards me, and I feel his arms wrap around my waist and his lips press against the back of my neck. I lean back into him, feeling the solid muscle of his chest, and I tilt my head to the side.

"Do you remember how we celebrated our wedding night?" I ask him. My voice sounds giggly as I remember the way he had pinned me down on the bed beneath him. I'd only known of our marriage for a few hours, but Eric had more than made up for it. He by no means had made love to me, but he had made sure we celebrated until my thighs were shaking.

"How could I forget." I'm sure he's grinning smugly behind me. Eric pulls me back with him as he sits down, and I'm happily seated upon his lap. "Do you want to recreate it?"

"I don't know. I am a little tired from all that celebrating," I tease him. I can feel him smirk, his lips still on my neck. He pulls me tighter against him, one of his hands trailing up my side. His fingers skim over my ribs before they reach the dark fabric of my strapless bra, and his large palm is warm against my skin.

"I'll wake you up. You can sleep when we're done celebrating." His hands let go of me, and I almost instantly miss them on me. I can feel him shrugging off his dress shirt, and he easily slips out of the undershirt, tossing it somewhere behind him. I feel him reach for the clasp of my bra and pull it off me; the bare skin of my back is resting against his muscled chest. For a moment we sit like this, Eric's arms around me and his head resting against mine. I can feel his heart beating steadily, and his breathing is quiet and even.

"Happy Anniversary, Amity," he murmurs in my ear, low and warm. I think back to the first time he ever called me that, as I stood and stared at him in his kitchen. Not knowing that eventually I'd fall asleep in the wrong bed, starting something between us that neither Eric nor I would see coming.

"Happy Anniversary, Eric." I smile, even though he can't see me. It's only a heartbeat before he kisses my neck, slower than ever. He trails his lips down my shoulder, his arms still holding me close.

"I always thought you were pretty." He says the words quietly, and his teeth scrape against my shoulder. His revelation makes me feel pleasantly warm. Eric suddenly moves to stand up, somehow setting me on the bed so he can stare down at me. "Pretty enough that I didn't care that you couldn't seem to figure out which room was yours."

"You didn't seem to mind." I grin up at him, my hands reaching for him. He bends over me so I can loop my hands behind his head, pulling him down until my lips touch his.

"I didn't," he mumbles as he finally settles his weight atop of me. "Though I did think of all the things I would have liked to do with you while you were in it."

I don't have an answer for him, because he reaches up with one hand to cup the back of my neck. For a long time he simply kisses me, his lips warm and familiar as they eventually bite at my own.

"Am I supposed to be gentle?" He says the words teasingly, kissing his way down my neck. It's not easy for me to breathe, but it never is when I'm with him like this. One of his hands is holding me down, his fingers digging into my side. "I know that's how you like it."

I shake my head at him, smiling up at my husband. Eric has no idea that, despite his aggressive personality and his tougher than nails disposition, he's the one that's always slowed things down in bed. I think back to all of the times he was the one to make sure he took his time, his head buried in my neck or his eyes locked on mine. I don't want to be the one to tell him he's silently confessed his feelings for me over and over, always when he was at his most vulnerable.

Tonight, I don't care if he's rough or gentle. I only want him, just like this.

 

 

We don't get out of bed until sometime just before noon. I lost count of the number of times Eric's body covered my own, and I lost count of the times I couldn't say anything other than his name. It was nothing short of pure bliss to wake up with my head on his chest and not a care in the world. Eric is still dead asleep, his limbs heavy and his breathing slow and deep. I stare at him for a second before I carefully slip out of bed to avoid waking him up.

I lazily take a shower, enjoying the warm water and the quiet. Last night's dinner replays in my mind over and over. It went by in the same sort of blur that the first Leadership Dinner did, but this one was unforgettable. I rinse my hair, and I finally force myself to finish up. I decide I won't wake Eric up just yet. He's still fast asleep on his side, his body turned towards my side of the bed. I dress quickly, selecting a skirt and shirt, and I realize it's lunch time. I contemplate making something, but before I can think about what I would attempt to make, there's a knock on the door.

For a moment my heart leaps to my throat, and I wonder if it's Max. I wonder if they've finally captured Evelyn, and whether my quiet afternoon will be replaced by pure chaos. It's unfair, really; for once Eric is completely relaxed, and I don't want him leaping up and grabbing for the first uniform jacket he can find.

I close my eyes for a moment, imagining my carefree afternoon slipping away.

I'm relieved when I open the door only to find Jason and Rylan standing there.

 

 

I sit on the edge of Eric's couch, my eyes wide at all the bags they've brought with them. It seems that everyone who came to the Leadership Dinner brought a gift. I can tell which faction they've each come from; the one from Abnegation is very simply wrapped, the ones from Dauntless are all wrapped in dark red and maroon tissue paper, and the ones from my mother are decorated with all kinds of flowers and foliage.

I eye that one carefully. I almost don't want to open it.

"Open them now," Jason announces. He's flopped down on Eric's couch, and he's looking at me expectantly. Rylan sits down beside him and he shakes his head.

"I'm sure she and Eric want to open them together." He glances around quickly before turning back to me with a confused expression. "Where is Eric? Don't tell me he's working."

I shake my head. "He's still asleep."

Jason grins widely. "Up late celebrating?" He leans back further into the couch. "We brought the flowers your mother so sweetly picked out for you. Eric seems to have left his on the table. Poor guy must have been in a hurry something fierce to forget such a stunning arrangement."

"Go fuck yourself, Jason."

Eric's words are rough and gravelly, and I can tell he's just woken up. My head turns in the direction of his voice, and I smile at his sleepy expression as he walks out of the bedroom. I watch him rub his face for a second, then attempt to flatten his hair down a bit. He's thrown on a shirt and his boxers, and he throws Jason a rather lethal glare. "You like the flowers so much, you can wear them."

Rylan laughs and reaches for the coffee he's brought with him. "They are your colors, Jason."

Jason pretends to think about it before he shakes his head. "It would be a crime to take them away from you."

Eric ignores them and he sits down beside me. His leg rests against mine, and he eyes the gifts on the table suspiciously. "What are those?"

"They're anniversary presents," I tell him, motioning towards the bag closest to him. "Everyone seems to have brought one. Jason and Rylan dropped them all off for us."

"You didn't even thank us for lugging all this shit up here. Max made us stay behind to clean up while you and your delightful wife snuck out." Jason sounds sulky, but his grin tells me he's hardly put out. "We should get to pick out a gift for all of our hard work."

"Find your own wife and have your own party," Eric snaps and he leans back, sliding his arm to rest on the back of the couch. He narrows his eyes at the gift that stands out the most, the one from my mother. "Actually, feel free to take that one."

I elbow him, but I can't help the smile that crosses my face.

"I'm kind of afraid to open hers," I tell him.

Eric smirks, and his fingers graze along my neck. "You guys can definitely take that one."

"Is that one from your mom, Everly? That woman was the highlight of the party. She told me she had some all natural teas that I should try instead of coffee. Said it would give me a natural high," Jason offers up, and he looks excited.

I widen my eyes and shake my head furiously. I don't even want to know what she would have given him. "Don't drink that. Please."

Rylan catches the look on my face and he laughs and elbows Jason. "You be the test subject. Let us know how high you feel after you drink it."

"Try it with me. We might feel better than ever. She said it was all natural," Jason counters.

"You two are idiots," Eric announces; they ignore him, continuing to argue over who should try the tea.

"You guys have anything planned for the day? Christina and I were gonna get dinner around five." Rylan offers the invitation up casually after finally winning the argument that Jason should try whatever my mother offered him. I shrug as I lean into Eric, and his fingers dig into my neck.

"We have plans. Maybe next time," he tells his friend, and I smile up at him.

I know we don't have anything planned for dinner. But for once, I really don't care that he's made the decision for us.

Rylan nods and Jason suddenly sits upright. "We gotta bounce. Max said we're supposed to leave you alone and not update you on whatever Evelyn's up to. We're also supposed to send someone so Peter can take his lunch."

Rylan laughs. "We should go. And we still have to make sure Karl got his latest orders."

Eric nods at them, and I smile as they stand up. They both look longingly at the gifts on the table before they head out.

"We'll catch you later," Rylan tells us, and they are gone before I can ask him to tell Christina hello.

I lean into Eric, resting my head against his chest. The apartment is surprisingly warm and quiet, and his fingers are still on my neck. He toys with the clasp of my necklace for a moment before he speaks.

"Do I even want to know what your mother got us?"

I shake my head and close my eyes. "No." I open them suddenly and raise my head to look at him. He still looks like he just woke up. His grey eyes aren't as intense-looking, and he smiles at me, really smiles as he blinks at me.

"What are you going to ask me?"

"You aren't curious what Evelyn is doing? Or what the newest update is?" I'm curious if Rylan's words will make him reach for his tablet or head into his office. But Eric shakes his head at me. He narrows his eyes, and tilts his head the tiniest bit.

"She's taken up enough of my time. She can wait." With that he closes the distance between us, his lips pressing against my own, and I stop worrying about everything except my husband, and whether or not Jason will try the tea.

 

 

On Tuesday I wake up to a dull ache in my abdomen, one that soon gives way to the worst cramps I have ever experienced. If I weren't dying of pain, I might just celebrate with joy. I'm not pregnant, and I can now skip down to Arlene and take back control of my reproductive system.

It's not that I don't want to have a baby with Eric. The idea of him holding our child makes my heart skip a beat; but at the same time, the idea is slightly terrifying. I'm still reeling from my mother's announcement to everyone that she'd tricked me into drinking a fertility-enhancing beverage for two years of my life. And then there's Arlene. I'll have to walk down there and sit through her disappointed stare. Even if I try to explain to her that I'm still not done with my leadership training, and I haven't even completely trained a full class of initiates, she'll still manage to look at me as though I am personally betraying her.

I drag myself out of bed and decide to take a shower and eat before I down something for the pain. I glance around the room, suddenly grateful that Eric isn't here. I've managed to have cramps few and far between since arriving in Dauntless. I'd chalked it up to the stress of my initiation training. Also, the idea of having to tell Eric I had cramps when I barely knew him had been horrifying.

I halfheartedly get dressed, wishing for warmer weather. Dauntless still holds its permanent chill, and without being pressed up against Eric, the cold seems to work its way into my bones. I manage to find his hoodie, and I slip on a pair of sneakers. Arlene will probably make this appointment as difficult as possible, so I've dressed in clothes that can easily come off if need be. She should really have no reason to make me take my shoes off, but at this point I wouldn't put anything past her.

I head back to the bathroom, and I open up the vanity cabinet. Unfortunately for me, I discover that Eric has no pain medication on hand.

Well, that's not entirely true.

There are several bottles of strong-sounding things that I had watched Arlene give him after he'd been shot. I quickly go through his side of the medicine cabinet, my fingers skimming over the aftershave and heavy shaving cream he uses.

I frown. This gives me the option of asking Arlene for something, which may earn me some sympathy from her. I could always stop and ask Tris or Christina, but Arlene might have something better. I close the cabinet after one final glance at our toothbrushes, set side by side.

Today feels long already, and it's not even nine.

 

 

The infirmary is quiet for once.

I stop by the front desk and am greeted by Molly, who cheerfully tells me Arlene is free. "Do you want me to grab her?" she asks. I nod, and she shoves aside the papers she's been filing. She looks grateful for the interruption. I pull the hoodie tighter around me, hoping this won't take long. I take a seat in the lobby, patiently waiting for either of them to appear.

Arlene wanders out suddenly, followed by Molly. Neither of them look particularly pleased, and I silently hope it has nothing to do with me. I don't doubt Arlene knows why I'm here, and I have the sneaking suspicion Molly knows as well.

"Everly Coulter." Arlene calls my name loudly, as though she's never met me before. I stand up, grimacing at the crampy feeling in my stomach, and slowly plod towards her.

"Nice to see you, too," I tell her, starting to feel cranky. I'd forgotten the crappy feelings associated with having my period. I have the sudden urge to crawl back under my covers and stay there for the next few days or until I can implore Eric to get me something to relieve my symptoms.

Arlene leads me back to one of the exam rooms, and I take a seat on the table. I haven't been in this particular room, but it has the same very clean smell that the whole infirmary does. It smells as though it's just been thoroughly sanitized moments before I walked in. Arlene is still suspiciously quiet as she leans back against the counter and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"How are you, dear?" she finally asks. "Did you enjoy your party?" She sounds different, not quite as smirk-y as normal.

I nod my head at her. "I loved it. I don't know if Eric was quite as enthused, but it was really nice of you to do that for us."

Arlene smiles tightly, and I wonder what's wrong.

"I don't know how you did all that without Eric knowing." I stare at her and she shrugs. My stomach drops like I've done something wrong. I need her to be the normal Arlene, the snappy and all-too-involved-in-everything Arlene that I know. "Are you alright?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "I'm fine. I'm assuming you're here for your birth control shot."

Now I comprehend why she's pissed off. I stare up at her, watching her carefully. I'm waiting for her to pull out her normal exam charts and paperwork, but so far she's just standing there. "Kind of. You said to come back, and I came to tell you that I'm not pregnant."

Arlene nods. "Have you made a decision about what you want to do?" She sounds irritated. "What script do you want me to write for you?"

I look up at her in surprise. "That's it? You aren't even going to try to trick me into having Eric's baby?"

Arlene frowns and she shakes her head. "No. So, what would you like? Birth control shot? Daily pill? The newest implant?"

Her tone is all wrong. She's not her normal, annoying, interfering self. "Actually, before you do all that, can I have something right now?" I ask her. "For the cramps."

She nods and leaves the room without another word. There's a sense of unease that has worked its way into my stomach. It's the same feeling I got when I watched her snap at Blythe. I try not to think about it, but when she returns and thrusts a small cup of something at me without even looking at me, I abruptly lose it.

"What is your problem?" I ask her, gritting my teeth as I drink down the cherry-flavored liquid. It makes my eyes close for a moment, and when I open them, she's all but glaring at me.

"I don't have a problem," she snaps. "This is your decision; I'm just here to help you." She says the last words with a forced professionalism. "You don't want to have your husband's baby, so I'll provide you with whatever will help you prevent that from happening."

I almost fall off the table. "It's not that I don't want to have a baby with Eric," I nearly yell at her. I shake my head in confusion. "Why are you so hell-bent on seeing that happen anyway?"

Thank God there is no one in the infirmary. My words seem to echo throughout the room and out onto the main floor. I'm sure Molly is enjoying this conversation. Arlene lets out an exasperated sigh and moves to shut the exam room door. She takes a seat across from me, and stares at me for a minute.

"I think it's time you and I have a talk," she announces authoritatively, and my eyes widen. She doesn't look as mad as she did a few minutes ago, but she still looks irritated.

"Fine," I tell her. "Go ahead."

"I've known Eric since the day he was born." Arlene leans back in the chair and crosses her legs. "I completed my medical training in Erudite. During my time there, I was privileged to work alongside Daniel for a few years. I became rather good friends with him and his wife. Blythe wasn't always the easiest person to like, but she was brilliant. Still is." Arlene pauses, and I stay silent. "Except for anything related to Eric. Even when he was an infant, she had no time and very little interest in him. I don't think Daniel or Blythe ever spent more than a few hours with him, and Eric grew up far more acquainted with his nannies and books than with the two of them."

I listen carefully. Eric hasn't revealed a ton of his childhood to me, and I try to imagine Eric as a young child, left alone to study while his parents focused on their careers.

"Both Blythe and Daniel excel in their fields of expertise. Not so much at raising a child. They argued about coddling him too much. I know Daniel at least tried to connect with his son on occasion, but he was also extremely busy with his work. Blythe asserted it would make Eric weak if they were to focus on him too much, and since she's the psychology expert, Daniel deferred to her.

I stare up at her and nod. Any person would bow to Blythe's wishes. She wasn't exactly subtle when it came to getting what she wanted.

"Around the time that Eric was preparing to choose his faction, there was a staff position that opened up here in Dauntless. It came as a surprise to no one when he chose Dauntless, of course. It was preordained." She peers at me over her glasses.

"Blythe asked me, as a personal favor, to transfer to Dauntless myself. She'd make sure I was given this specific infirmary, and in return I would keep an eye on Eric for her."

"So she wanted you to look out for him?" I ask her. I had wanted to stay silent so she'd keep talking, but my curiosity is getting the better of me. Maybe Blythe wasn't such a terrible person after all, if she wanted her friend to keep an eye on her son. Arlene shakes her head ruefully. "She wanted me to make sure he stayed in line. So that he didn't embarrass her. He'd been placed here by Jeanine, and Blythe didn't want a single thing to fuck it up. Can you imagine how badly it would reflect on her if he failed to fulfill his Aunt's wishes?"

Scratch that: Blythe is a terrible person.

Arlene smiles. "So, I chose to take the job and come here. I made the decision more for Eric than for Blythe. I didn't trust Jeanine as far as I could throw her. I'd watched her over the years, and I wasn't stupid; I could see how much of a conniving manipulator she was. I decided to take over this shit show of an infirmary so I would be able to keep an eye out for Eric. I watched him fight his way to the top, excelling over everyone else. And I watched him as it all came crashing down around him when Four came in first place ahead of him. He managed to beat Eric to a pulp to become the only undefeated fighter in the initiate class."

That's news to me. I blink a few times and shake my head. "He never told me that," I respond, stunned.

She smiles at me as though I'm an idiot. "Of course not. Why would he? It was humiliating. Devastating, even. He considered himself a failure. His pride took an enormous hit when he was beaten by Four — of all people. Four, who transferred here from Abnegation, a scrawny Stiff who struggled to find a place for himself, someone who never seemed to quite fit in. Eric had assumed he would be able to beat him easily, that he wasn't Dauntless material. He was certain of it, in fact, and he expected that their fight was going to assert his dominance over the entire initiate class and set him up to be a respected leader."

She hesitates, as though she's choosing her next words carefully. "Eric truly didn't think anyone could beat him. That arrogance was his first mistake; he badly underestimated Four. His second was in taunting Four during their fight. Eric didn't think it possible for Four to have any rage or aggression in him, but he was wrong. Four managed to beat him up pretty spectacularly. When they brought Eric to me, he'd been beaten nearly unconscious. Broken nose, a mouthful of blood, a missing tooth, rib injuries... and horribly shaken confidence."

I sink back against the wall at the image of Eric beaten up so badly. He's always seemed practically invincible to me. "What happened after they brought him to you?"

Arlene smiles patiently. "The physical injuries were easy to deal with; it was reminding him of his purpose here, that he was meant for greatness, that was harder to do. His bruised ego probably hurt worse than any physical blow Four had dealt him. It didn't help that I'd now seen him at his weakest." She gives me a pointed look and I nod. I have no doubt it made Eric ill to let anyone see him like that.

"It took a few days, but I pushed him to forget what had happened. He needed to move forward and put this behind him. Four got the better of him in that fight, but I knew if Eric focused on the path that had been laid out for him, he would surpass Four someday as a leader of Dauntless. I gave him the support I knew he needed, even though he tried hard to push me away." Arlene stops and shakes her head. "In his mind, letting anyone get close to him was another sign of weakness; after all, that was what he had been taught since he was a baby. He was determined not to need anyone."

She sighs heavily, and I can see Eric's rejection still stings.

"Of course he was." I pull at the sleeve of my hoodie.

Arlene is studying me carefully, no doubt picking up on my unease at the thought of Eric choosing to be alone. She smiles at me, and there is a hint of melancholy behind it. "I've always tried to help him, Everly. He needed someone who cared about him, rather than about what he could do for them."

"Despite the fact that Eric's final rank was irrelevant, that he was still placed in leadership and given everything he ever wanted, he still wasn't able to let go of his anger at being ranked second. He seemed determined to prove that he deserved his leadership position. Immediately after his initiation ended, he had Jeanine breathing down his neck, and the more he did for Jeanine, the more power she gave him. In following her orders, Eric became a leader that was feared and loathed by many. He was essentially untouchable, but he was also harsh and cruel to the Dauntless around him."

I'm biting my lip hard enough that I taste blood.

"Everyone in Dauntless could see what he had become, but they were powerless to stop him. Four was offered the same leadership position, but he knew what was coming. There wouldn't be any understanding between him and Eric, and Eric certainly wouldn't make the position pleasant for him. A year before you came here, I had an opportunity to sit down with Eric and I told him the truth: that people didn't respect what he was doing, that they were simply afraid of him. They listened to him because they had to. I told him to cool off his business with Jeanine. To be careful what he agreed to do for her, because it would never be enough for her."

"It never was, was it?" I ask her. I shift forward on the table, trying to picture Eric storming through Dauntless on a rampage.

Arlene shakes her head. "No. Jeanine wanted him to do all her dirty work, and in return, she gave him the power he thought he wanted. But it all came at a cost. She'd made him into this machine, and he did whatever she asked without thinking about why he was doing it. I think on some level it was also a way for him to prove himself to Daniel and Blythe. To prove that they had been wrong about him all those years, that he was worthy of their attention. But Eric would never admit that. Not to me, nor to himself."

It's my turn to shake my head. "No. He wouldn't." I know Arlene's words must hold some weight. She'd watched him grow up; she had more insight into him than anyone. "But what does all this have to do with me and birth control? And why do you seem so mad at me?"

"I'm getting there," Arlene tells me haughtily. "One bright day, you left your happy little Amity farm and chose Dauntless. You were the only female in the initiate class, a first in our history. In a moment of brilliance, they assigned the most ruthless man in Dauntless to train you. Your future husband."

She says the last part gleefully, and I huff at her. "Funny."

"He didn't like you at first," she continues on, pausing only when she catches the look on my face.

I must look surprised at her words.

"It wasn't personal. There was a lot at stake for him by agreeing to train you. If he failed, Eric would suffer a fate even more humiliating than losing out to Four. There's nothing worse to Eric than failure. Personally or professionally. I know he toyed with the idea of letting you fail on your own. He even went so far as to admit to me that he didn't think you'd survive his training class."

My face falls, and I try to think back to the beginning of my training. I never thought I was hopeless. "I did my best," I tell Arlene. "I tried really hard. I did everything he said."

Arlene grins. "Exactly. I think Eric was surprised that you took direction so well, and even more surprised when you improved. He seemed to back off a bit. I didn't get quite so many emails about your sleeping habits, or the fact that you were from Amity." She raises an eyebrow at me. "If Eric were capable of being impressed, I'd say he was, indeed, at how well you were doing."

She pauses, and her face breaks into the wide grin I've grown very familiar with. "And then I realized something that Eric didn't want anyone to pick up on: he actually liked having you around him."

"What do you mean?" I ask her impatiently. Any information on Eric was still riveting, but this was almost downright scandalous. "You mean he didn't mind I was staying with him?"

"Nope, not a bit. Eric was lonely. As a feared leader of Dauntless, he'd managed to isolate himself rather spectacularly. You came along, and I think he found himself enjoying his time with you. Far more than any trainer and initiate should. For the first time in his life, Eric liked being around someone else. It didn't hurt that he had the advantage of having you in his apartment. But you seemed to be just as happy to be around him."

I feel my cheeks heat up, remembering all of the times I'd happily curled up beside him on the couch while he went over training plans or typed away on his tablet. Or the time I'd found myself in his bed with my head on his chest. There had been nothing trainer-and-initiate appropriate about that.

"There was a change in him the night he got shot. They brought him in and I knew it wouldn't go well. He was irate that he'd been injured and nearly impossible to get near. No one could get Eric to calm down, and finally Max told me he would go and get you. When you got here, I watched you reach for his hands and I knew there was something more between you two. I've never seen anyone touch Eric like that before. He was pissed Max had gotten you, but you somehow soothed him enough so that he would quiet down and accept our help."

I nod, remembering that night very clearly. I can still feel the way my stomach had sunk when I saw he'd been shot, the way his fingers had tightened around mine.

"Before you arrived, Eric was frantic. Two of my nurses threatened to quit when I suggested we sedate him. Yet all it took was for you to show up and he calmed down. If I remember correctly, he held your hand the entire time he was being stitched up."

"He did," I tell her. "I was surprised he was so injured. I thought it was a routine patrol."

Arlene squints at me. "Nothing in Dauntless is ever routine." She cocks her head to the side. "At what point did you realize Eric had feelings for you?"

"I don't remember the exact time," I answer honestly. "It just sort of happened. I mean, he liked me enough to sleep with me. I don't know the moment he felt more for me."

"I realized it that night," Arlene says. "I don't know if he'd ever admit it. I don't even know if he knew it then. But you were the only one he had ever let get close to him. Eric had, quite unexpectedly, found someone who cared about him, someone who he could love and who would love him back. You paid attention to him when he expected you not to. It was then that I knew you'd pass your training. I knew he'd do whatever it took to keep you close to him."

I avert my eyes from her stare and sigh. "You mean, like marry me without telling me?"

"Precisely. He'd already given you his last name." Her tone is filled with glee and I roll my eyes remembering the first time she realized he'd filled out the form wrong. I'm slightly relieved to hear her sound like the old Arlene again. "You know, he told me you two were getting married."

I jerk my stare back to her. "He did?"

Arlene nods smugly. "Eric was so enamored with the idea that he had to tell someone other than his bumbling friends. He came in here under the guise of requesting some medical transcripts and he let it slip. He thought he was rather brilliant. He'd marry you to keep you safe, and also to keep you with him." She stares right at me. "I wholeheartedly encouraged his idea."

"Of course you did." I'm starting to feel better now. Whatever she's given me has kicked in, and I no longer want to crawl into a hole and die. And Arlene is looking more like her normal self again.

"The day he told me about your marriage, I asked him if he wanted to have a family with you. He didn't respond. But Eric's silence told me everything I needed to know. You already were the only family he'd ever wanted, and you'd become the only important person in his life. I don't think he had ever considered having any sort of family with anyone. Maybe he had just assumed he'd one day die alone, fulfilling someone else's plans. But you brought the possibility that Eric could have everything he'd never had for himself, never even known he wanted."

Arlene's words make my throat tighten. I've never thought of Eric like this. He's always been the stronger one in our relationship. I would blindly follow Eric wherever he went, and I had. But to think of him as someone that had spent the better part of his life not knowing something as simple as having someone care about him made my eyes burn.

"You were everything that he'd been denied. Soft, warm, kind, patient." She pauses. "Loving. Even when you didn't have reason to be."

I have the sudden urge to run to Eric. To find him, probably in his office, irritably responding to pointless emails and kiss him until I couldn't think straight. To take him back to our home and do nothing but love him until the days have passed and I've forgotten all the terrible things I've heard.

"Two years ago, if I had asked Eric if he wanted to have a family, he would have bitten my head off. He'd have snarled at me for asking him something so inappropriate, or told me to fuck off. His silence on the subject is nothing more than his fear that it might not come true. That maybe you don't love him enough, or that you won't stay with him. If he voices that out loud, it would make it all the worse if it doesn't happen." She stops and sighs before looking right at me. "So I pushed you. Unfairly, yes. But I did because I want the two of you to be happy, and I want the two of you to experience everything together. You aren't promised tomorrow. Especially around here."

"So what do I do?" I ask her. I feel blindsided. Not all of this is brand new information, but the majority of it makes my chest feel tight. "Have a baby with him?"

Arlene shakes her head and stands suddenly. She rummages through the cabinets behind her, and she produces a small packet. "That will be up to you. You can start these whenever your period stops. Take one every day at the same time. I'll write you enough refills for the year, but you can come back anytime if you have any questions or problems. Or if you decide you want to try another form."

She drops the packet into my hand, and I swear it feels heavy and hot.

"That's it? You're just going to tell me all that and then hand me this?" I frown at her, and she smiles.

"I can't tell you what to do, dear. I would tell you to go find him and forget about everything else. Eric won't care if you never finish your leadership training. He just wants you."

I swallow and I find myself staring at my shoes. I've never felt less sure about what to do in my life. An hour ago I was thrilled to bounce down here and pick up the birth control. I'd had it all planned out.

But now I feel like everything has changed.

I don't move, and I can tell Arlene knows that our conversation is now heavy on my mind.

"I'm not trying to sway your decision," she announces. "Or maybe I am. But I know that this is a decision you and Eric should make together."

"Yeah," I answer her. "I think you're right."

The only problem with asking Eric about this is that I don't know if I'll get a straight answer out of him. I've asked him a few times, both when I had memory loss and when I didn't. I can recall him sort of answering, putting the decision back on me by announcing he was good with whatever I wanted to do. At least then I thought I knew.

"How many children did your mother have?" Arlene asks me as I look up at her. She looks thoughtful as she makes her way to the door. "It seems like Amity has rather large families."

"Usually," I agree. "We had kind of a big family. I have five brothers and sisters still in Amity."

Arlene pauses now, and glances back at me with her hand on the doorknob. She smiles indulgently, and it's the most genuine one I've seen from her. "Just don't tell Eric that part."

 

 

I head towards Eric's office, and for the first time in forever, I'm not in any big hurry to see him. I walk slowly, trying to stall when I realize I have no idea what to say to him. He doesn't have a clue that I went to see Arlene, and he definitely doesn't have any idea that Arlene just spilled his life story to me.

I don't really want to see his reaction to that.

The elevator bell dings sharply and I step in, smiling at the few people milling around in it. The ride is all too quick, and I feel like every single person in the elevator knows where I'm going and why I'm going to see Eric. I try to stand very still, but it's like the birth control packet is burning a hole in the pocket of my hoodie. The elevator doors open before I can reassure myself I'm being ridiculous, and I step off without looking back.

I trudge down the hallway, noting that it seems extra quiet in here today. I don't know if everyone is out to lunch or if maybe they're all just working really hard, but it's practically silent here. Not even Linda is at her desk.

I knock on Eric's door, almost hoping he's not there. I still don't know what I should say to him, even though I know what I want to ask him. I wrack my brain trying to think of an approach. I need a way to bring up the subject of having children with him that he'll respond to without avoiding my questions or biting my head off.

He doesn't come to open the door, but he does finally bellow his reply, and I take a step back.

"Yes." He sounds testy and I know right away this is not the time to bring up any sort of reproductive issues with him.

"Hey, it's me." I step through the door, glancing around his office. Eric's seated behind his desk, and his shoulders look tense. Gone is the relaxed Eric that I spent the past few days with, and back is the Eric that's focused on finding Evelyn. He eases up slightly when he sees I'm alone, and he leans back in his chair as he fixes his stare on me.

It only takes a second for him to notice something's up.

"Are you alright?" He cocks his head to the side, and he narrows his eyes. "You look…apprehensive."

I curse his keen observation and I smile at him, hoping it doesn't look forced. "I just thought I'd come see what you were doing."

He nods, but he doesn't look convinced. He presses his lips together and sighs. "I'm reading over an email from Max. Have you checked yours today?"

I shake my head no. In all honesty, I'd been so caught up in celebrating with Eric that I hadn't checked my email since before the Leadership Dinner. So far, no one has really emailed me anything important: sometimes Four sends me training plans, and occasionally Eric sends a message asking me to make sure Four's doing what he's supposed to be doing. It would be just my luck that Max would choose to send me something the one time I don't look at it.

"I forgot," I tell him. I come to a stop before his desk, and I take a moment to really look at him. He holds my stare and nods.

"Okay." He motions towards me. "Come read mine."

I easily slip behind his desk, and he yanks me onto his lap. One of his arms moves to snake around my waist, pinning me against him. He moves the mouse until the window reappears and I try to read the email quickly. My name is on it, and so is Four's.

"You and Number Boy are set to head out on a field trip." Eric's voice has the same cold tone to it that he used when I first wanted to learn to train the class. I can tell he doesn't approve whatsoever. "You, he, and Lauren are taking the class to the fence. And if I remember correctly, I forbade you to leave the compound without me."

I lean back into him, chewing the inside of my cheek. I've finished reading Max's message, and it's nothing crazy. It sounds like a simple trip to the fence with the training class. They'll learn about some of the positions available, they'll get to check out some of the day-to-day operations, and they'll learn about guarding the city. We'll return before sundown, and it doesn't mention visiting any other locations other than the fence.

"Lauren will be there, too," I throw out, and I can feel him shake his head. My trip to the fence had been slightly different. I'd gone with Eric and the training class, but he'd kept me close to him, and I'd only joined the other classes briefly.

I silently weigh my options. Do I tell Max that I can't go on this field trip because I made a promise to Eric that I wouldn't leave Dauntless without him? Or do I go with my class and piss off my husband, even though I know he's overreacting? Choosing to stay behind seems like the last thing a leader would do, but pissing off Eric is a dangerous move. "I know I told you I'd stay here. But this would be safe. It's part of my job. And Lauren and Four…"

"What about Four would make you feel remotely safe? The part where he trained his mother's factionless army to kill? Or the part where he got you kidnapped?" He snarls the words through his teeth, and I turn to face him.

"You know he didn't do that on purpose, Eric." I say the words carefully, and Eric raises an eyebrow. He scowls and I lean in to kiss him before he can come up with a nasty retort.

He lets me kiss him for half a second. "I'll just go with you," he declares.

"What?" It's my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. "You would willingly go to the fence with the training class?"

He narrows his grey eyes at me. "I don't trust you out there with anyone but me. And since this is part of your training and I know you're going to argue to the death about this…" He shrugs and smiles. "I'll just go along, too."

Eric looks pleased with his plan and I smile warily at him. I don't mind him coming along, but I don't think Four will be thrilled with the idea. The look on Eric's face tells me he doesn't really care what anyone else thinks.

"You'll get to train your class, and I'll make sure you come home the same Everly that left here — with your memory intact," he announces with both pointed sarcasm and a note of decisiveness to his tone.

"Alright," I tell him, feeling relieved. With any luck, he'll be mostly cordial to Four and he'll hang back or stay next to me. "The class will be excited you're joining us."

Eric rolls his eyes and doesn't answer. He clicks out of the email and exits out of a few other screens. His office is quiet until there's a knock on his door, and Eric jerks his head towards it. "Oh good, I'm expecting Max, though he's oddly early."

I slip off his lap just as Max walks through the door.

Max catches my eye and he grins at me. I notice he's got a stack of papers in his hands and several folders. "Everly. Afternoon."

"Hi, Max." I stand to the side of Eric's desk and Eric takes the papers without looking at them. He tosses them aside after a quick glance at the top file.

"How'd it go with Harrison?" Eric asks. He sounds bored by his own question. Max takes the seat in front of Eric's desk and shrugs.

"Fine. Nothing new to report as of now." Max turns his stare to me and waits a moment. "Everly, I didn't get your response on the email I sent out. I was just reminding you that as part of our training it would be beneficial for you to finish up with Four's class. Including this trip."

Eric's jaw tightens.

"I did read it. I'll be there…" I trail off for a second, and Eric clears his throat.

"I told her I'd go with her," Eric announces firmly, and Max doesn't look surprised.

"You're volunteering to go with the training class to the fence — you think Four needs help watching his class?" Max crosses one leg over the other, and settles back in the chair. He's got an amused look on his face now.

"No. I'm going to make sure my wife returns to Dauntless at the end of the day." Eric is flipping through the papers on his desk now and he squints at one for a second. "I don't care what happens to Four or his class."

"You know this isn't optional for Everly. Someday she'll take her own class out there. And what will you do if you aren't able to just drop everything and join her?" Max is watching Eric and I can hear the curiosity in his tone.

"I'll be fine you know." I put my hands on my hips. They're talking about me as though I'm not standing there, right next to them. "It's just a trip to the fence. With two of the other trainers. And the entire training class."

Eric's eyes flick over me for a second before they land back on Max. He tightens his jaw and straightens his posture in his chair, and I know right then and there he will never change his mind on this subject.

"She won't go without me. Ever."

Max's face relaxes into an amused grin as he looks back and forth between Eric and me. Finally, he shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, giving a low chuckle. "Well, OK, then. I guess there will be one more body along for the ride to the fence."


	40. Daniel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muchas Gracias to BK2U for your help and assistance with this chapter!

Daniel shows up on Wednesday.

It's more than surprising since I'm not expecting him. I don't know if Eric has talked with him in the days since our anniversary dinner, but I'm definitely startled when he wanders into the training room. I'm standing beside Four, carefully watching the initiates, when I realize he's here and walking towards me. I wave at him, noting the way he carries himself with the same air of authority that Eric does. I suppose being the Head Neurosurgery in Erudite might have something to do with that confidence.

"Should we be worried Eric's dad is here?" Four's voice interrupts my thoughts and I shake my head at him.

"I don't think so. I think he just came to visit," I answer, trying to hide just how excited I am that he's here. Eric hasn't mentioned a word about him since our surprise dinner, and I haven't brought up anything about Daniel slipping Blythe something to make her behave. I'm sure Eric must have picked up on her mostly demure behavior, but he's kept quiet. Our mothers are equally strange, but his is definitely more dangerous.

"Hi, Daniel." I beam up at him as he stops in front of us. His eyes are warm, but they narrow as they fall upon the class before him. He takes in the way they are practicing throwing knives, their stances perfected and their aim far better than when they first started. I can see him observing them carefully, probably saving the information for later.

"Hello, dear." He widens his stance a bit as a few of the initiates catch sight of him, and I wonder if Eric knows just how many mannerisms he and his father share. "I know I didn't call, but I had a little free time today, and I thought perhaps I could take you to dinner." He glances around the room quickly. "I didn't know whether you and Eric had plans tonight."

"I don't have anything planned, but I think Eric is in a meeting for the next few hours," I answer, and Daniel nods slightly.

I look at Four, trying to figure out what we have left to do with the class. They're due to finish up in the next half hour, but usually Four likes to take a few minutes to go over everything we've done for the day and then put the training room back in order. I notice Four's head is cocked to the side, and I can tell he's trying to listen in without being obvious.

"I can finish up here if you want to leave as soon as they are done. I can email you anything that needs your attention," Four offers politely. He smiles cautiously, and I wonder if he's thinking of the way Blythe yelled at him during the dinner.

"Thanks," I tell Four, and turn back to Daniel. "Want to meet at Clyde's in half an hour?" Clyde's isn't the sort of place I would normally expect him to enjoy, but taking Daniel down to the cafeteria seems like a terrible choice. "I can head over there as soon as I'm done here."

Daniel nods. "Perfect. I think I'll swing by and see if Arlene ever got her tea. I'll have her point me in the direction of Clyde's when I leave." He grins and I can't help the feeling of horror that wells up in me. I'd almost forgotten about her request to order the stupid fertility concoction. I'm sure my mother would be more than happy to send her gallons of it.

That damned tea has been a touchy topic for me, especially with everything that I've been turning over in my mind lately. Last night, Eric was so distracted by the idea of going to the fence with Four's class that I elected not to bring up the fact that I had visited Arlene; I still feel like I need a little more time to think about everything she told me. So I ended up leaving the packet she'd given me right where I'd shoved it into the pocket of the hoodie I wore to the infirmary. I haven't yet come up with any concrete decisions about using birth control or not, but even more daunting to me is that involving Eric is starting to seem nearly impossible. I can't quite figure out how I'm going to get him to discuss this openly and honestly, and to tell me how he really feels about starting a family. Maybe I need to first find a way to show him that he can trust me with his thoughts and feelings, that I'm not going to leave him no matter what, that he comes first in my life.

"Tell Arlene I said hello." I grimace, and Daniel grins.

"Will do."

He bids Four a quiet farewell and he's gone before I can ask if he wants me to invite Eric.

"So, Eric doesn't know he's here," Four states, taking a step back towards me. He's got his hands behind his back, and he looks unusually smug. "Why do I get the feeling Eric won't be a fan of his father surprising him like this?"

I try hard not to roll my eyes, realizing Four is getting some kind of perverse joy at the idea of Eric being uneasy. "You didn't enjoy it when your father showed up here unannounced," I point out.

Four shrugs and frowns. "That's a little bit different, Everly."

"Well, I'm glad his father is here. Eric might not love the idea of his dad showing up like this, but I think it's important for him to have some sort of relationship with his father," I inform him. I don't know why I'm spilling this to Four. It's something I would be much more likely to tell Tris, but for some reason the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Maybe it's because I think Four is typically a good listener, one who gives good advice and can be counted on to be discreet. "I want Daniel to be in our lives in the future. I'm the one that pushed for Daniel to come back. Eric should give his father a chance to get to know him, too."

Four is observing me quietly, and he looks like he's waiting for me to tell him more, so I ignore his stare.

"Shocking that you are the one pushing for him to be here. Eric's whole family seems so warm and open," Four states dryly. Obviously, he's not going to be forgetting his encounter with Blythe anytime soon.

"Go help that guy. He just threw a knife and it did hit the target, except he hit the one three stations down from him." I shove Four's arm and he shakes his head, trying to stifle his sigh. There is a loud yell as the guy celebrates his terrible aim rather enthusiastically.

"Great. He'll make an excellent solider so long as he's aiming a few men over."

He seems to forget all about Eric and Daniel, and he heads over to help the guy with the worst aim ever. I focus my attention back on the class, wondering if Daniel considers us close enough to answer a few questions for me.

 

 

Clyde's is crowded, but not crowded enough that I can't easily find Daniel.

He's the only one dressed in blue, and his neatly pressed suit jacket and shirt stand out amongst the sea of black. He's taken it upon himself to find us a table, and I'm oddly relieved it isn't one Eric and I have sat at before.

I slide into the seat across from him, and I realize he's ordered a drink for me.

"I don't really know what you like, so I just ordered a soda." He gestures to the drink the server sets down in front of me and I smile.

"That's fine, thank you." I don't mind that he's ordered for me or that it's something nonalcoholic. I don't really want to get sloshed in front of my father-in-law, and I doubt Eric would be pleased if I was tipsy enough to spill any of his secrets.

At least the very few I've been able to pry out of him.

I snuck away to call Eric after his father left the training class, and was disappointed when he told me he was stuck with Max. I figured it had to do with Evelyn, so I didn't push him to try to leave any earlier. He'd sounded crabby when I told him I didn't mind eating with Daniel alone, but he eased up a bit when I told him I loved him and I'd see him at home.

"Eric said he's stuck with Max for now. He's sorry he can't join us," I cheerfully inform Daniel.

"That's alright. I'm more than happy to have dinner with just you." He stops to take a sip of his drink. "Your class is interesting. Knife throwing seems to be a bit of an archaic skill to learn."

"I agree. I'm not sure who decided it was a necessary part of the curriculum, but I think it's meant to build discipline. It's harder than it looks," I tell him. I fail to mention that his son taught me by standing far closer to me than I stood to my initiates, keeping himself firmly pressed up against me.

"It looks hard," he answers. "I'm sure there's a certain art to it."

"Want me to teach you?" I half-joke, trying to imagine Eric's father, in his fancy jacket, throwing knives at the targets. I can't imagine it at all. He seems far too refined to partake in such an activity.

"Maybe another day," he laughs.

Daniel and I sit quietly for a moment. There's an easy silence as the server returns with menus, and I finally work up the nerve to ask Daniel something.

"Daniel…" I say his name hesitantly, and he must pick up on my unease. He smiles and nods, silently giving me permission to go on.

"I talked to Arlene the other day. She told me some things about Eric and I wanted to know if I could ask you a few questions," I begin haltingly. I feel slightly sneaky, because I know he's trying to build a relationship with me, and he might feel obligated to answer. "I mean, you can answer me if you want to. But you don't have to," I add after a beat of silence.

Daniel nods at me, and he toys with the rim of his glass for a moment. "You know that I want to get to know you, Everly, so it's only fair that you should get to know me, too. I'll answer anything I can. You're part of my family now. " Daniel shifts his gaze to meet mine intently, and I can see he definitely means everything he's saying. "So, let me guess. She told you all about his upbringing." He looks down at his drink and he frowns. "I wish I had something different to tell you, Everly."

I shake my head at him. "I understand," I tell him softly. "Arlene told me you did what you could."

Daniel sighs and shakes his head, taking a long drink of the dark liquid. He doesn't seem like a huge drinker, but he and Eric seem to have similar tastes in their preferred drinks. "I wasn't the best father to him. I won't try to sit here and convince you I was."

He pauses and his eyes meet mine once again. "I should have pushed more for what I believed would be best for him. But Blythe... her specialty is the mind. People's emotions, their actions, their decisions. For a long time, I thought she knew what was best for him. It wasn't until it was too late that I realized I was wrong."

"But you tried, right? Arlene said you went up against Blythe on a few things," I tell him.

Daniel exhales sharply. "Yes. I argued with her over several major points that I didn't agree with. Things I found unnecessary or even heartless. Eventually I just gave in, under the assumption that she was the one who knew best. I didn't really have a lot of free time to spend with him even if I had succeeded in convincing her otherwise. But by not doing what I thought was right, I helped make him into the man he is now. At least the harsher side of him."

"Don't think of it like that," I tell him. I lean forward, noting the way he looks a little defeated. The look doesn't suit him the same way it doesn't suit Eric. "I think anyone would have done the same if they had been in your position."

Daniel looks somewhere behind me. "I can't be certain. Blythe is brilliant in her field. I had no reason to doubt her, other than my instincts. I was too busy to stop and examine more closely whether she might be wrong, or to see the long-term effects of her actions. Had I looked harder at the situation, I'd have seen she was passing him off."

I don't say anything in response. It's become clear to me that I will never have any goodwill towards Blythe. The more anyone talks about her, the less patience I seem to have for her.

"I look at Eric now, after he married you, and I see he's changed. The simple addition of you in his life has made an immense difference in him. It may not be noticeable to everyone, but it is to me. "

"He has changed since I met him," I answer him. "Did you know he didn't like me when he first met me?"

Daniel laughs and pushes his glasses back up his nose. "Well, he certainly likes you now." He slides his empty glass to the side of the table and leans back across the dark booth. "You are privy to changes most people won't have picked up on. But I will tell you, there's something in the way he looks at you, and in the way he carries himself when he's with you, that tells me he'd do anything for you. He'd become anything for you."

He pauses as the server takes his empty glass.

"You're the only one who sees the man I think he wants to be."

My heart skips a beat. Daniel's words are not meant to be painful, but lately there are too many words from too many people that seem to pierce through my skin and slice at my insides. While necessary in understanding Eric, I don't like to think of him like this, as the one who might need me more than I need him.

"He's definitely capable of becoming whoever he wants to be." I keep my eyes on Daniel's, and I finally voice the thought that's been nagging at my brain. "Do you think Eric would be someone else if he'd grown up differently? I can't picture him…" My words trail off and Daniel shrugs.

"Softer? Kinder? It's doubtful. I think people are born the way they are. His personality is strong and so is his control. Always has been. I think letting himself feel any sort of emotion makes him feel weak and vulnerable. So he simply turned them off, distanced himself from his own feelings. He put his energy into other things, which made him even more closed off."

Daniel stops as a server returns and takes our order. He eyes the rows of eyebrow rings that adorn her, but he politely orders a hamburger without any other commentary.

"You'll have to stop me if this gets boring," Daniel says. "But you need to think of it as nature versus nurture. In a way, you do it with your own training class. Some of them are naturally gifted in what it takes to be a member here; everything they must do to complete initiation comes easily to them. But you and Four, you help nurture them in the right direction. You can shape them to be who you want them to be; in a way, you and Four have the power to set them on a path for life. Even so, you can only do so much. It's up to them to do what they please with your help. So, do I think if Eric had had a bit more nurturing in his life he'd be different? Sure. But is it in his nature to be soft and gentle? No."

I think about this for a moment. The server returns with a glass of water for Daniel. She eyes him curiously, probably not recognizing that he is Eric's father, but taking definite notice of his blue attire.

"Do you think if you had been around more he'd be less closed off? Maybe more open emotionally?" I feel like I'm prying, and I know the question is a loaded one. For a second Daniel blinks at me, and I know it must be uncomfortable to answer that one. Asking him if he'd been around more for his own son, making sure he didn't turn out so cold and hard, is not exactly the dinner talk I'm sure he was expecting.

But he answers anyway.

"Yes. Had I spent more time with him, I wouldn't be sneaking over to Dauntless, trying to get to know my own son and his wife." He doesn't look at me, and for a horrific moment I feel like I've pushed him too far.

"He wants to know you," I tell him quietly.

Daniel blinks in surprise. "Did he tell you that?"

I shake my head and fidget with the straw in my drink. I finally take a sip, stalling for a moment. "He doesn't have to tell me. I just know."

I do know. I watched the way Eric stalled at the dinner, wanting to say goodbye to his father but not wanting to march over there. I watched him agree to have dinner with him when Eric had absolutely zero reason to agree to his father's request. But outright admitting he might want to know Daniel would be nothing short of pure weakness in Eric's mind.

Daniel meets my stare and his eyes are kind behind his glasses. "I hope you're right."

"I am," I tell him, grinning. "I'm fairly fluent in Eric now."

My words earn a wide grin from Daniel. "I have a feeling you're the only one that could say that." Daniel leans forward, carefully arranging his fork and knife. "He cares deeply for you, Everly. More than I could have ever imagined Eric caring for anyone. I think it scares him a bit."

I avert my eyes for a moment. The past few weeks have shown me exactly this — that Eric, while seemingly incapable of loving anyone, has repeatedly shown me how much he loves me.

"You want to know what's really scary? Arlene thinks Eric and I should have a baby," I tell him. His eyes widen in surprise, but an excited look crosses his face. "She thinks he wants a family. That it would be good for him."

"I get now why she was so interested in your mother's tea." Daniel's words sound light again, and I can't help the rush of embarrassment that bursts through me. I slump back against the booth at the mention of the tea, starting to think I'll never live that moment down, and irritated that everyone seems to think the tea possesses some miraculous fertility-enhancing power.

"I really don't think the tea works, especially since I was told the effects are supposed to last for at least a month after you stop drinking it. I drank it until I left for Dauntless, so if it had worked, I'd probably have gotten pregnant before I was even a full member here." Eric's father's eyebrows shoot up, and my hand flies to my mouth. "You…probably didn't need to know that."

For a fleeting moment I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Confessing to my father-in-law that I'd been sleeping with his son before I was even sure I could stay here is mortifying. My cheeks grow even hotter, but Daniel simply laughs.

"I was going to tell you it doesn't work." He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. "And don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

I relax a bit, and luckily the server chooses that moment to drop off our food. The mess hall serves hamburgers daily, but these hamburgers look way more appetizing than the ones down there. I thank the girl and she waves us off, leaving us to eat.

"Can I ask you a question?" Daniel neatly takes a bite of his hamburger, and he waits until I nod. "Do you want to have a baby with Eric?"

I swallow my food and I sigh, unsure of my answer. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. But I still don't have a good answer. I mean, yes. I do want a family with Eric. I want there to be an 'us', and I want everything that comes with that. There have been a few times, I think, when Eric has thought about having a baby." I take a second, debating how much information to share with Daniel. "He doesn't seem to mind that I haven't been on any form of birth control since I returned to Dauntless."

Daniel doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. The pleased expression on his face tells me he's very much Team Arlene on this subject.

"Eric said he was fine with whatever happened. But that was after I came back. I haven't asked him lately, and I don't know if he remembers." I pick up a fry and drag it through some ketchup. "I don't want him to think that I don't want to have a baby with him. But I don't want him to think that I tricked him into it, either."

Daniel takes a minute to think about what I've told him. I can almost see him processing his answer, and I take the opportunity to take another bite of my dinner.

"Have you asked him? Or are you perhaps afraid that history will repeat itself? Or that Eric won't have any interest in the child?" Daniel stares at me pointedly.

"I don't know how to bring it up. And... I don't know how he'd be as a parent," I answer him honestly. I've tried a few times to think of Eric with a baby and I've been unable to imagine it. I'd grown up with enough brothers and sisters in the house that it wasn't unusual to have a small child with me at all times. Dauntless was the first place I'd ever been on my own, without a small body clinging to my arms and legs. "I don't know if he'd have the patience. Or if we would even agree on how to raise a child."

"I think he'd follow your lead on that, Everly. You two grew up very differently. You've been taught different values, and you each have your own ideas about what a family should be. I think Eric would want to avoid making the same mistakes we made, knowing that he suffered as a result. I'm confident he would default to whatever you thought was correct, and he would trust you to be nurturing." Daniel looks thoughtful. "You know, everyone would assume that growing up in Amity would lend to your being softer towards the children, but as the next leader of Dauntless you'll also be expected to raise them in a more efficient manner. I think you'll be able to blend the two together." He throws me a proud look, as though he's firmly behind the idea.

Daniel's words stay in my mind and they bring up something I've been thinking about off and on. "Sometimes I don't know how I could balance it all. Being a new leader here... having a baby. And I don't even know everything about Dauntless that I should, at least not yet." The confession slips out suddenly, but I'm not worried at my sudden inability to keep my mouth shut. I trust him. Daniel is smart, and he's proven he has no hidden agenda. He simply wants to know his son, and he's asked to get to know me as well. I know this conversation won't leave this table, and there's a comfort in talking with him. I only wish Eric could feel this way, too.

"It would be a lot," he points out. "I don't think anyone would fault you for not being ready to leap into the position. You've had a busy year here."

His words make me feel better, and I nod. "I wouldn't want Eric to be disappointed in me."

Daniel shakes his head at me slowly and smiles. "Everly, I don't think you could disappoint Eric. I think he just wants you to be happy."

I sigh, wishing the answer were more obvious to me. "It's just that some days I really want to do it, but some days I'm happy just working with Four. It's not an easy decision."

At the mention of Four's name Daniel raises an eyebrow. "How is Four doing?

I smile, remembering Blythe's hatred of Four and his name. "Fine. It was nice of him to finish up the paperwork after class."

Daniel nods. "Are he... uh… are he and Eric friendly?"

I cough as my drink goes down my throat. "Hardly. When I first arrived here, Eric seemed to hate him. He tolerates him a little better now. Four's girlfriend is one of my really good friends. She was sitting beside him at the dinner."

"I remember seeing her. I was just wondering. I've known Rylan for some time, and I've met Jason a handful of times. Other than those two, I don't know if Eric associates with anyone else." Daniel wipes his hands and makes a face. "It seems as though he's kept to himself here."

"I think it was the easier option. Working for Jeanine seemed to leave him little time for anything else. Even my training was a major interruption during her project." I stop and try to ignore the shiver that works its way up my spine. "Were you upset that Eric was the one that carried out her execution?"

The words taste bitter in my mouth. I don't want to think of her and her nasty agenda.

Daniel shakes his head and offers up a firm no. "That woman deserved everything she had coming to her. I'm shocked no one else got to her first. And besides, Eric carried out orders that came from a trial. It wasn't his own personal decision to execute her, but as far as I could tell, he didn't seem to object."

"She didn't seem like a great person." I try not to sound offensive, but it's hard to sound nice when the woman had my name on her hit list. "She seemed to make him miserable."

"She was hardly a great person," Daniel answers, and his tone has darkened. "But enough about her. Tell me about your leadership program. What do you have planned next?"

The rest of the dinner slips by far too fast for my liking. Before long, Daniel hugs me goodbye; we part ways, and something in my chest tightens as I watch him head toward the long hallway that will lead him out of Dauntless. I feel surprisingly sad, and I wish I had invited him back to the apartment for coffee. Even though I'm sure he has to get back to Blythe, I wish he could have stayed a little longer.

I head towards the elevators wondering just what I should tell Eric about our dinner. Daniel had offered up some valuable insight on Eric, but I don't want to tell Eric that we spent our free time analyzing him and just exactly the type of father he'd be.

I push the call button and realize I only have a few minutes left before I'll be home.

Eric will want to know all about the dinner, and I don't know what to tell him.

 

 

"Did he buy you dinner?"

Eric is lying in bed beside me, one heavy leg draped over mine. He's pressed himself up against me, and one of his hands is resting on my hip.

"Yeah, he did. Are you jealous? Because you sound kind of jealous," I tease Eric. When I returned from dinner, he eyed me curiously but didn't outright ask about his father. He waited until we climbed into bed to finally ask me about Daniel. I got the feeling it was easier for him to ask me this way, half-buried beneath his warm sheets, his own body keeping me firmly in place.

"Hardly. I'm sure it was a thrilling dinner," he sneers, and I can detect the tiny bit of defensiveness in his tone. It's not so much that he's jealous of his own father, but more the fact that someone else had my attention. "It counts as one of the dinners he demanded," he adds flippantly.

"No, it doesn't. Don't be silly," I tell him lightly. I reach my hand to his, slipping my fingers between his own. He scoots closer until my back is pressed against his chest and his head is touching my hair. "He just stopped by. He still wants to have dinner with you. And he didn't demand anything, he asked."

Eric makes a huffing sound, but he stays quiet.

"What did you guys talk about?" He finally breaks the silence, and I know the curiosity must be killing him. I push back against his chest, closing my eyes.

"You," I answer, enjoying how warm he is. I'll never grow tired of lying with Eric like this; fully encompassed by him and the dark comforter. "Mostly how sweet you are."

I hear him snort into my hair and I smile.

"He wanted to know about the training class. If I liked working with the initiates. Nothing crazy." I'm starting to feel tired; and I know Eric is, too. He's only minimally protested my dinner with Daniel and he hasn't even tried to yank off the t-shirt I had thrown on.

"How nice." Eric's voice sounds sleepy, and I know it won't be long before both of us fall asleep. "I'm glad you had fun," he adds the final part reluctantly, and he tightens his embrace on me. It's the last thing I hear before I drift off to a warm, dreamless sleep.

 

 

Daniel emails me a day later.

It's the one email that I actually bother to read when it pops up on my phone. I brush my teeth while I skim it. His message is nothing earth shattering, but I'm pleased he took the time to send it.

I make a mental note to tell Eric that Daniel wants to know if we can both meet him next week. I can't think of a single thing that we have planned, so I email him back right away, telling him we'd love to. Eric shouldn't mind; after all, he did agree to the dinners.

I finish brushing my teeth and I set my toothbrush back next to Eric's.

The only thing that could possibly mess up my plans would be if Evelyn is spotted again, but I refuse to let her affect one more day of my life.


	41. Changes

Four is quieter than usual, and he seems distracted.

The class is milling around, waiting for him to direct them to their training exercise, but he's fidgeting with the papers and not paying an ounce of attention to them. A few of them turn to me with inquisitive looks on their faces, hoping I'll announce what we're doing. I mentally go over what we've done so far: they've covered throwing knives, combat terms, defensive and offensive techniques, and hand-to-hand combat -and lost several initiates. Logically, it should be time for them to move on to more weapons training before starting their fear simulations.

Four lets out a sigh of exasperation and I make the snap decision to bail him out for the moment. Something must be up, because he's never not prepared. Four is an excellent trainer, and normally has a high level of commitment to training his initiates. Something has thrown him off, and I know this will be a long day if we don't get started.

"Everybody grab a partner, and think of a few things you feel you've been struggling with. Pick one of those to work on for the next half hour," I make the announcement loudly, and Four looks both surprised and relieved. The class immediately breaks up, pairing off quickly and noisily deciding what they want to work on. They seem thrilled with their speck of freedom, and I silently hope this is a good idea.

I walk closer to Four, and I reach for his elbow.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, eyeing him critically. He looks fine, maybe a little tired, but nothing too noticeable.

He stiffens, hesitating for a moment, probably debating how much he really wants to tell me, before he shakes his head.

"This isn't really the place for a heart-to-heart talk," he points out. I smile, knowing he's talking about the time we ate lunch together and he questioned me about my marriage to Eric.

"They're busy. We can stand here and pretend we're watching, and you can tell me why you haven't stopped glaring at those papers since we got here," I answer, placing my hands on my hips. The class is listening well; they've all paired up and are heading towards different points in the room. A few are getting ready to spar, and some look relieved that they aren't really fighting today.

Next to me, Four silently weighs his options, then sighs heavily.

"Fine. I think Tris's father may be putting some stupid ideas in her head."

I try to keep my expression neutral. "Ideas about you? Why would you think that?" Four stares ahead stoically, exhaling a quiet puff of air.

"Andrew is well acquainted with Marcus. I can only imagine the stuff Tris has been hearing since your Leadership Dinner, since her father seemed less than thrilled to see me. Back in Abnegation, Marcus had a habit of making sure I was kept out of sight. It was easier to explain my absences if I wasn't around to let anything slip," Four states flatly. "I'm sure Andrew has made a point to tell her exactly what Marcus told everyone: how socially inept I was, how there was something wrong with me, how much of a traitor I was when I left…"

"If Tris thought any of that she wouldn't be with you," I point out. I'm a little surprised at the source of his gloominess. Tris has seemed happier than ever lately, and I didn't see any signs of unease at the dinner, even after talking with Andrew.

Four shrugs. "She decided she didn't want to be with me once before and broke us up. And she's been a little distant for the last couple of days, so what's to stop her from doing it again?"

He sounds sure of himself, like he's already made up his mind that this will happen. I shake my head and cross my arms in front of my chest.

"You're a good person, Four. You're not socially inept, and there's certainly nothing wrong with you. You and Tris have the luxury of already having done this once before. You know what works and what doesn't. It's clear to me that you two aren't repeating the same relationship over again, so the same issues aren't going to arise again. And she doesn't think anything is wrong with you."

Four doesn't answer. He just exhales sharply. "That's nice of you, Everly. I don't know exactly what Andrew might have told her, but whatever it was, it wouldn't have been good."

I take a step closer to him, ignoring his body's reflexive recoil. "Tris knows you're a good person. That's all that matters."

Four knits his eyebrows together. "I appreciate your words. I really do."

I frown back at him, realizing he looks unconvinced. Unfortunately for the both of us, there's nothing we can do about it now. We've still got an entire day of training to cover. If I could find a way to take a minute and go and talk with Tris I would, but Four would immediately notice the second I snuck off.

"We'll talk more later," I tell him, my eyes widening as I watch the initiate with the terrible aim preparing to throw a knife with his eyes shut. His friends are cheering wildly from the side, probably placing bets on where his knife will land. "I think we should go stop Shaun over there."

Four shakes his head, and grimaces. "Great. Idiots."

 

 

An hour later, there's a disruption to the class in the form of Eric. He strolls across the training room lazily, uninterested in nearly everything in it. His stare rakes over the class; an unimpressed look crosses his face until he finds Four and me.

"It's Eric." One person in the class sounds enthused, but the rest shrink back considerably. A few throw worried stares in his direction, but they all stay silent.

Eric's bored stare finds my own, and he raises a single eyebrow at me.

"Everly."

The way he says my name makes me slightly nervous. Were I not married to him, I might assume I was in some sort of trouble and that I was being led off for some terrible punishment. But I am married to him, and I know that he's down here to tell me something important, and that makes me more nervous.

"Hi, Eric." I smile up at him, and he finally comes to a halt in front of me. "What are you doing down here?"

"I need you to come with me for a minute," he announces briskly. "It won't take long."

At Eric's words, Four looks irritated, and I watch him shake his head as he stares out at the class. He hasn't said another word about Tris, but I know it's still weighing heavily on his mind and nothing seems to be improving his mood.

"We have fifteen more minutes before we take a break. Can it wait?" Four asks, his voice dripping with exasperation. I want to tell him he's a brave man for throwing that kind of attitude at Eric, but I don't.

"I don't remember needing your permission to talk to my wife, Four," Eric answers, his voice icy as ever. I wonder what exactly has transpired between the two of them lately. Up until now, they've been sort of civil, coming to an uneasy truce so long as they focused on Evelyn and not on each other.

"We're in the middle of a class," Four retorts.

I watch every ounce of patience drain from Eric's face. He smiles tightly, the same deadly, ruthless smile he might give someone before he shoved them headfirst into the wall. "Fuck off." He then turns to me, and narrows his eyes. "Are you coming?"

It's not really a question, so I nod at him before I throw a quick look at Four. He looks duly pissed off now, but he stays silent, knowing better than to start a pointless argument in front of the class. Eric looks slightly less murderous as I follow after him, and he all but storms out of the training room. I walk quickly behind him, almost jogging to try and keep up with him.

"Is something wrong?" I finally catch up to him just outside the door, and he turns sharply on his heel.

"How's your day going?" he asks me casually. He stands very straight, his whole body looming over me. I have to raise my head to look up at him, and I realize he has a very intense expression on his face.

"It's going fine. How's yours, Eric?" I'm pretty confused as to what's going on, but I have a sinking feeling he's about to tell me something I don't want to hear.

"It's going great," he says tightly. "More than great now that we've caught sight of Evelyn a few times." He's staring down at me, his grey eyes locked on mine, and my stomach tightens. He doesn't look happy.

"Where?" I ask him.

Eric smiles unpleasantly at me.

"Near the Amity fields."

It takes me a minute to process what he's saying.

"Was it really her?"

He shrugs, not taking his eyes off of me. I'm suddenly reminded of the first time Eric ever stared at me with an intense possessiveness.

"It could be someone else," I point out.

"Someone else that looks just like Evelyn, wandering through the Amity fields? Sure, that must explain it."

My heart sinks and I nod at him, knowing full well he's going to insist I stay home from the trip to the fence. He doesn't say anything further and I finally sigh.

"I should get back to the class," I tell him, and I chew on the inside of my cheek for a second. "That's good news, though. Maybe this means we'll catch her soon."

Eric smirks. "She can't run forever."

He takes a step closer, reaching for me. I feel his arms wrap around me, and I let myself melt against him, forgetting all about my class that's waiting behind the door, and the threat of Evelyn roaming around the fields. The feel of his jacket is familiar against my cheek; the heavy fabric reminding me of the rapidly dropping temperatures outside.

"I'll make you dinner tonight," he says quietly, and I nod into his chest, suddenly wishing I didn't have the rest of the day ahead of me. I hold onto him until I hear the incoming noise from the class as they head towards the hallways.

 

 

"He's not going to let you go to the fence, is he?" Tris stares at me over her plate. The mess hall is beyond crowded today, and it feels like every single seat has been taken. We had managed to find a seat off to the side, and it worked out well since I didn't really feel all that thrilled about my day anymore.

Eric's announcement had put me in a less-than-happy mood. It wasn't fantastic to know Evelyn was out there, but it made it all the worse that she was spotted in the one place to which I was supposed to soon be heading. It had come as no shock that Eric had flat out refused to permit my trip to the fence, and the look on his face had told me this was not an argument I would win no matter how hard I tried.

"He says it's not safe. I understand his thinking, but it is part of my training here. I don't want to stay behind while everyone else goes," I tell her, and I realize I sound childish and sulky. I know Eric's argument isn't over something trivial; there's a whole lot of meaning behind it. "She's only been spotted. And they aren't so sure it's her. She hasn't tried to come close to the community."

Tris nods and swallows. "He just doesn't want anything to happen to you," she says slowly. "You know that's his reasoning, right? This goes beyond Eric wanting you all to himself."

"I do know that," I tell her, frowning at my mashed potatoes. "I just don't want him to think that I can't do anything on my own."

It's not entirely fair to make me stay behind. I seriously doubt Evelyn would come after me if I were standing there with an entire class of students, not to mention her son, but I don't think she's out there alone. It's her army that would have no qualms about attacking any or all of us.

"If Max thinks she's a threat, he'll call off the trip," Tris answers, her eyes finding mine. "They won't send the class out there if they think they'll run into trouble." She bites her lip, thinking hard. "And if it is safe, you said Max made it clear the trip wasn't optional. He'll definitely make sure you go if he feels it will further your training."

I nod at her, mashing down my food aimlessly. "I hope Eric understands."

Tris makes a face, and I bite back my grin. "Or he won't, and he'll just be unbearable the whole time."

Tris laughs. "That's more likely."

"So, how are you and Four doing? I haven't seen you guys together since the dinner." I change the subject as nonchalantly as I can, keeping my gaze fixed neutrally on the table. I don't have much time left during my lunch, but I had made it my mission to find Tris. I'd taken a chance that she would be able to join me for lunch, but it had worked out well.

Tris smiles widely. "Fine. We've worked opposite shifts since then, but we did have fun at your dinner. Even if your mother-in-law is insane," she snickers.

"Yeah, she definitely wins for least friendly human being on the planet," I tell her, wishing Blythe would vanish out of my life. "She didn't seem too fond of anyone there."

Tris shakes her head. "She definitely hated Four's name. I'm sure Eric got a kick out of that."

"Eric enjoys it when anyone is uncomfortable, but I'm sure that's not news to you. So, I meant to ask you, does Andrew know Four?" I question her, reaching for my napkin. She nods slightly and she shifts in her seat as a fresh wave of members flood through the doors. During my initiation, I rarely ate in the mess hall. Eric and I mostly ate by ourselves, so the amount of people coming in for lunch feels claustrophobic.

"He knows of him. He didn't know Four was my boyfriend." Tris eyes the couple bickering to the side of her, their loud argument over whether or not the macaroni is gluten free carrying over our conversation. She peers back at me. "Why?"

It's my turn to shift in my seat, wondering just how much I should say to her. I want to tell her what Four said; they're both friends of mine, and I want them both to be happy. I just don't know how much Four will appreciate my help.

I make the decision while the gluten free couple loudly agrees to disagree.

"He's worried that Andrew has told you all kinds of untrue things about him." I stab at my chicken several times. "He thinks you might break up with him again, that you've been a little distant. He was really quiet during our class today and I finally got him to tell me why."

Tris frowns and glances around the mess hall. It's far too crowded to find Four, but I doubt he's in here. He hadn't followed after the class the way he normally does, and I'd bet he went off to eat by himself.

"I don't know why he would think that — I have zero intentions of breaking up with Four," she declares. "I really don't care what lies Marcus fed my father. I know Four, and I have no reason to believe anyone but him."

I nod at her, relief washing over me. I didn't think she was planning anything of the sort, but Four's words had left me uneasy. I didn't like the idea of Marcus planting false ideas in anyone's mind. Especially about his own son. "I think you should tell him. I think he could use the reassurance."

Tris's expression changes to reflect her puzzlement. "Why would he need that?"

"You did break up with him once before," I remind her. "Because you and he weren't exactly working. Maybe he's worried you'll start thinking differently about him, and then your relationship won't be working again."

"Four is far more important to me than whatever my father may think, and definitely more than anything he could tell me about him," she says, and her voice has changed. She doesn't sound very relaxed anymore.

"Does Four know how you feel?" I ask her gently.

She chews on her lip for a moment, and her expression softens. "I would hope so," she wavers, "But maybe not? We really haven't seen each other much in the last few days. Hmm... as strong and confident as Four is, I guess I sometimes forget that has insecurities just like the rest of us. I guess I should talk to him, let him know we're good."

I nod at her. "He just mentioned he was a little uneasy about seeing Andrew. It was kind of a rough dinner for Four."

Tris laughs, and shakes her head. "You have no idea, Everly."

 

 

I make a detour on my way home from training.

Talking with Tris had put a few thoughts in my mind. Her situation with Four isn't all that different from mine and Eric's. While I have zero intentions of walking away from Eric, he doesn't seem to always believe or trust in that. No matter how many times I tell him how I feel, or how many times I show him, it seems there is still some nagging doubt in his mind that I could walk away at any given moment. I want those feelings gone; I wrack my brain trying to think of what I could do to make him think otherwise.

I come to a halt in front of the tattoo parlor.

It's mostly empty except for a few members milling around. A man glances in my direction, and my stomach sinks when I realize it's Bob. The last time I'd seen him I'd been with Christina, and he'd flat out refused to touch me. I hadn't wanted a single thing done that afternoon, but I wonder if he'll still refuse me now.

"Hello," I greet him, hoping maybe he's forgotten who I am.

"Well, to what do we owe the pleasure, Mrs. Coulter?"

No such luck. He eyes me carefully before his posture eases up a bit. He doesn't look quite as interested as the last time he saw me, but he stares towards me with purpose. "Christina isn't here. Are you here to get something done?"

"Actually, I am," I inform him. "Do you do tattoos as well, or just piercings?"

Bob shakes his head. "Just piercings. But I can find someone who's free." He pauses and looks me right in the eye. "Does Eric know you're here?"

Irritation runs through me, but I push it down. I'm not an initiate anymore, and Bob is well aware of that fact. I shake my head at him. "No, but I want this to be a surprise, so just pretend you never saw me."

Bob simply smirks, but he finally nods his agreement. "Wait here."

He returns with a woman I've never met, and she smiles widely.

Half an hour later, I'm sitting with my legs crossed and I'm bent forward slightly. The needle doesn't hurt quite as much as I would have thought. It's more like an annoying scratch that doesn't let up, but it's manageable.

"You doing alright?" the girl asks me. Her name is Amber, and Bob had quickly introduced me without much fanfare. I was relieved to find out she'd be doing the tattoo for me. She didn't bat an eye when I told her what I wanted. And she agreed when I told her I wanted this to stay just between us. Wandering into the tattoo parlor and asking to have Eric's and my initials tattooed on my skin would no doubt provide someone here with a fascinating topic of conversation. But Amber seems very quiet and serious, and she doesn't seem like the type to gossip.

She'd helped me pick the spot as well.

The needle touches over my spine for a moment, and I try to stay as still as possible, ignoring the hot feeling that works its way up my back.

"So you and Eric have been married for a year now?" she asks quietly, her attention focused on my back.

"Yeah. It's hard to believe it's already been that long," I answer. I focus my eyes on the book in front of me. She'd handed me a book of her work and it was a fantastic distraction. I flipped through page after page of tattoos, all different, but with a somewhat similar, distinct style.

"I've worked on a few of his tattoos. His neck was one of the hardest ones I've ever done," she tells me, stopping to wipe my skin for a second. The skin feels raw and hot, but only for a moment. I feel her fingers hold my skin in place and seconds later the scratching sensation starts up again. "He mentioned you a few times."

My heart starts to thud the same way it does anytime I think about Eric mentioning me to someone. The reaction is always the same because Eric talking about me makes me feel giddy. I was important enough to him that he'd uttered my name to the few he trusted before we were married.

Arlene. His father. And now the person who he'd allowed to permanently mark his skin.

"I remember he was really proud of how well you did during his training." Amber's words are clear and even. "I don't think many people would have survived an initiation run solely by Eric."

I nod my head, forgetting I'm supposed to be staying still. "It might have been easier to just stay with Four's class."

Amber laughs and stops, letting her fingers fall to the side of my back. "I'm sure. Okay, we're almost done. I have to say I really like it. I think Eric will, too."

I can't wait to see it.

The design isn't large, but it is rather intricate. I chose a monogram, surrounded by the same flames Eric has on his calf. Not too many people have seen any of his other tattoos, but I've seen them enough times to memorize them. I think I came up with the perfect way to tie us together. I've always taken secret delight in our names sharing the same letters, and there's something about seeing our intertwined initials that brings with it a sense of permanence.

Amber wipes off my back one final time and I sit upright, stretching out my cramped muscles. I hop off the bench and stand in front of the mirror, turning to face Amber. She hands me a smaller mirror to look in, and I smile when I see the reflection.

"It's perfect," I tell her.

She's done a fantastic job. The initials are set in the middle, surrounded by the flames in an abstract manner so that they seem to form a heart around the letters. I stare at it for a moment, wondering how long it will be before Eric notices.

"It should only take a week, maybe two to completely heal. Keep it covered for the next 3 or 4 hours, then wash it gently with antibacterial soap, and then apply lotion several times a day until it's all healed. Try to sleep on your side tonight, and let the tattoo breathe — bare skin or very loose clothing — as much as possible. Come back if you have any questions or problems." Amber smiles at me. "It was really nice to meet you, Everly."

"It was nice to meet you, too. Thank you so much."

Amber nods and leaves the room with my card. I've only used it a few times since I've been here. There isn't a ton I need, and anytime I've purchased something with Eric, he's always taken care of it. It felt good to hand her my own black card, and I told her to add the same amount of extra points Eric did.

I look at the tattoo one more time before Amber returns with my card and puts some lotion and a bandage on my back. I thank her again, pulling my tank top down and shrugging on the jacket I brought with me. I still have a few hours before Eric comes home, and hopefully he'll bring dinner home with him.

 

 

The apartment is quiet when I finally return home.

There's no trace of Eric, but I use the quiet to my advantage. I grab a glass of water, and shrug off my jacket. My shoes follow after, and I decide I'll put them away later. I lie down on the couch, making sure to stay on my side, and rest my head on the cool pillow. My head has been throbbing ever since the early afternoon, and the buzzing of the tattoo gun had only aggravated the pounding. I decide to close my eyes, hoping that if I just lie here and relax, maybe it'll go away.

I feel better about the day now that I'm home. After spending my entire lunch talking with Tris, I have come to a few conclusions. The first is that I did the right thing by talking to Tris. She seemed grateful that I clued her in to Four's worry, and she hugged me goodbye with the promise that she would talk with Four without letting him know I'd come to her. They both deserve to be happy, and if I can help, then I will.

The second realization is a bit less pleasant, but absolutely unavoidable.

I am going to have to find a way to ask Eric how he feels about having a baby.

The decision can't solely be mine. Sure, he'd gone along with whatever I'd suggested, mostly while he was between my thighs and I was unable to remember anything other than how much I wanted to sleep with him. He'd told me he was good with whatever, and in my hazy moments of memory loss it was more than enough of a yes for me. I'd urged him on, and he'd willingly complied.

But now I really need to hear him say the words aloud, when both of our heads are clear and we can have a serious discussion about it.

If having children isn't something Eric wants, I'm okay with that, too. I just need an honest answer from him. Which means I need to find him, sit him down, stare him directly in his far-too-mesmerizingly grey eyes and ask him point blank.

It will be uncomfortable, not because of the subject, but because he rarely offers up answers unless we're in some emotionally fraught moment. He answered my questions about Ashley while I held a razor blade to his throat — after he'd one-upped Landon with our outside sexcapades. He answered questions about his family, sort of, while I sat on his lap half-dressed and asked him if he could ever feel anything for me. And he told me he loved me while he was beneath me in bed, holed up in Amity while I dealt with my father's death.

I screw my eyes shut tighter.

Nothing emotional happened today, unless the way he glared at Four for daring to suggest he wait to talk to me somehow counted. Or maybe the way he stormed back to his office when we parted ways, his shoulders tense with irritation. I can feel my headache starting to ease up, but I keep my eyes shut anyway. It's nice to just lie here, letting the world fall away from me. I can feel myself drifting off... until I feel Eric brush the hair off my face.

"Why are you sleeping?" he sounds suspicious, and I blink up at him. For a second, I'm taken back to the time when I used to fall asleep on his couch on a daily basis. His training had left me so exhausted it had been all I could do to eat dinner before I passed out, usually right next to him.

"I had a headache, so I lay down." I sit up and take a sip of the water I'd set on the coffee table. I shake my head. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. What time is it?"

"Seven. I got back later than I planned. But I brought dinner." Eric walks over to the kitchen, and I hear him rifling through the bags on the counter. "Give me a couple of minutes and I'll get dinner ready."

"Okay." I stand up from the couch and use the opportunity to slip away. My back feels sore and the bandage is starting to feel itchy. It's been long enough that I should probably take it off. I quietly pad towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I pull my tank top up, and I reach around until my fingers find the gauze. I peel it off, grimacing at the sticky feeling. If I crane my neck around I can almost see the design, and it brings a smile to my face.

I wash my hands, then wet a clean towel and carefully wipe away some of the dried blood with the antibacterial soap. When I'm satisfied that it's clean and all the soap has been removed, I apply some of the ointment I had seen Eric use, and I pull my shirt back down over it.

I walk back to the living room, and smile as Eric looks over to me.

"We can eat on the couch," he announces, and I return to the same spot where I had napped, leaning my head back into the couch and curling my feet up beneath me. "How was your meeting?"

"Fine. Max isn't convinced we saw Evelyn." He returns with two plates, and I perk up when I see meatloaf and mashed potatoes piled up on them. "He wants to send a team down there to check out the area, but he doesn't think she'd be so careless. It seems I may have been a little premature when I told you they saw her."

I eye him carefully; he looks annoyed. "You'll still go with Four's class to the fence. I'll still go with you."

"I'm glad we're still going," I tell him, balancing the plate on my lap. "I don't want to miss it."

Eric shrugs. "It's not that great of a field trip. There are better ones you could take them on."

"Like where?" I ask him, wondering just where else we could take the class. Eric had certainly taken me several places, but it was usually just us. I have a feeling that normally the training class does not accompany the leaders to talk about security cameras.

He shrugs again, and I know he has little interest in talking about the subject.

I stare at him, watching the way he glowers while he eats his dinner. I know he's angry, and it's not just because Meatloaf Monday has suddenly been moved to Thursday. He's still tense, the idea of going to the fence still irritating him.

"I had lunch with Tris today," I announce, deciding to break the tension. I don't know if I'll ask him anything tonight. He looks so wound up that I probably wouldn't get any answers out of him.

"That sounds riveting." He raises an eyebrow at me. "I'm sure you two had a great time discussing Four."

For a moment I wonder if Eric was there, or maybe somehow overheard what we were talking about. But the look on his face tells me he's simply making a sarcastic assumption. I smile at him, taking a bite of dinner and wondering if he'll stay grouchy all night.

The answer so far seems to be yes.

I finish my dinner a few minutes after him, and he wordlessly takes my plate. I wait for him to come back, and he flops down on the opposite end of the couch. He's taken off his jacket, and he's dangerously quiet.

I rise up and shuffle over to him. I sit down beside him, curling myself into his side. I'm careful to keep my back from actually touching the couch. Eric doesn't seem as tense as he was, and he moves his arm so it rests around my shoulders.

"Thanks for dinner," I say, watching him stretch slightly. He adjusts us so I'm closer to him, and he nods.

"You're welcome."

I move my hand until my fingers find his dark shirt, working up until I find the first button. I slip it through the hole, keeping my gaze on my fingers. Eric stays quiet until I've unbuttoned his shirt almost the entire way, the hard planes of his chest now visible.

"Are you tired?" I ask him.

Eric shakes his head. "Hardly."

I twist around, until I can see his face. He's smirking at me, but his eyes don't look as intense anymore. "Come here," he tells me, leaning into me.

His mouth finds mine, and I decide I will wait just a few more days to talk to him.

His fingers leave my shoulders, sliding down my sides to push me closer to him. It only takes a second for me to be yanked onto his lap, and I slide one leg on each side of him until I can settle on top of him. He grins at me briefly before his mouth attacks mine. His actions are rough; he jerks me against him as his fingers dig into my skin, and I squirm as they come close to the tattoo. I'm relieved when one of his hands slides into my hair, fisting it tightly at the nape of my neck until I lean my head to the side. His free hand moves down my side again, holding me in place.

"I'm really glad you're home," I tell him while he lets his mouth drag over my neck. His actions are ever familiar, and I sink against him. "I was thinking of you…" I stop talking when he sinks his teeth into my neck, and I force myself closer to him, wanting not an ounce of space between us. "I was thinking… ow."

I jerk myself back away from him, and he blinks at me in confusion. His eyes are heavy with lust, now darkened with a hint of worry. He frowns and I try to steady myself.

"Are you alright?" His eyes search my neck before they find mine. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's not my neck," I blurt out. His hand has returned to my back, and I move away, not wanting him to touch it again. It's not his fault; Eric has no idea that I got a tattoo today. I'd wanted to wait to show him, at least until it had healed.

But it doesn't look like that will happen now. His expression turns suspicious, and his eyes slide down lower. Before I can protest, his fingers yank the bottom of my tank top up, and one large palm glides carefully across my lower back. He stops when he finds the edge of the tattoo, and his other hand grips my waist. He twists me around and very gently touches the outline of the flames, his face unreadable.

"What the fuck did you do, Everly?"


	42. Snowfalls and Amity Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who is still following this story! I appreciate everyone who reads it :)

I turn back to face him and stay perfectly still. Eric's eyes have narrowed, and the grey color seems to darken the longer he stares at me. He doesn't look mad, but there's a definite hint of something ominous in his eyes. His fingers linger on my back, coming dangerously close to the sore skin.

"I wanted to wait and show it to you once it had healed," I answer, smiling up at him. I straighten myself up a bit, keeping my eyes on his face. "I got it today. I've been thinking about it for a while, and I wanted to surprise you. But you had to go and get all handsy…"

Eric huffs, his lips curling up as he raises a pierced eyebrow at me. "I was handsy? You were the one who unbuttoned my shirt."

I try to maintain an innocent look, but he's right. I hadn't set out to seduce him, I just really enjoy him shirtless. But rather than focus on who started to undress who, I try to change the subject. "Do you like it? Because I do."

Eric exhales and cocks his head to the side. "Why didn't you want me to go with you?" he asks tightly, and something flashes in his expression. His stare falls down to my side, then he looks back up at me. "I would have liked to have been there."

For a moment I stay quiet. I hadn't even thought of asking Eric to go with me, for no reason other than I wanted to surprise him. It had felt good to do this on my own. For the first time since coming to Dauntless, I'd made a decision for me and only me. "I wanted to go by myself. It felt like something I needed to do on my own."

"I see." He keeps his words even; he's repressing something, something I can't quite discern, but he still doesn't seem mad.

"Amber did it for me," I offer.

He nods solemnly and his fingers still for a second. "Good. She's one of the best in Dauntless."

"She's really nice. She said she's worked on a few of yours." I want to scoot closer to him, but I keep still, aside from moving to link my feet behind his calves. I feel anchored to him, and I know it's easier to get him to talk in this position. "Can I ask you something? Do all leaders get the same tattoo?"

I'd thought about this while Amber worked on my back. Eric had chosen to put the dark pattern on his throat, and I realized Max had the same pattern on one on his hands. I'd never been close enough to Tori to notice if she had anything similar, but I'd caught sight of one on Rylan's wrist. Would I have to get the same one? Is it something required of all leaders?

I reach my hand forward and Eric watches me, not moving. My fingers find his throat, and he remains still as I touch one of the blocks. He's never stopped me from touching him like this, my fingers browsing his skin in the same possessive manner with which he touches my own.

"No, it's not required. But the design is reserved solely for leaders who choose to add it."

I nod at him, my eyes taking in Amber's careful work. The blocks on his throat are perfectly shaped. I wonder how hard it was for him to sit there while she did this. I can feel Eric's pulse, strong and steady beneath my fingertips.

"I'm not sure if I would want it," I tell him, and Eric shrugs.

"It's not that big of a deal. No one will think less of you if you decide not to get it." Eric tightens his grip on my side. "How did you pick this design?"

"I wanted to get something permanent, something that would show how I feel about you and about us. Somewhere only you would see it, though." I lean into him, inching closer towards his bare chest. Eric takes in a deep breath and scans my face carefully. Whatever he sees there causes his face to brighten as he smiles. It's one of his rare smiles, one which makes him look genuinely happy.

"I do like my flames and our initials on your skin. And that I will be the only one to ever see it." He emphasizes the word ever, and he looks pleased at the idea. He eyes fall to my lips, and I feel my heart speed up.

Just like that, everything is back to normal. He leans in to kiss me again, one of his hands moving to slide into my hair, the other still on my back. After a few seconds of his lips on mine, I realize this isn't going to work. His hand keeps accidentally bumping the tattoo, and I find myself trying to shrug away from his touch.

"Stop," I tell him, moving to knock his hands away. "It hurts every time you graze it."

A flash of irritation crosses his face. "I'm not trying to touch it. It's just that you chose to place it on your back. Where I like to put my hands."

I stare at him for a second before an idea comes to mind. I don't know if he'll go for it, but it's worth a shot. I lean back and meet his steely glare.

"Alright, then, you can't touch me. Keep your hands to yourself," I inform him. I adjust myself on his lap, making sure he's stuck in place beneath me.

"I can't touch you," he repeats flatly. His hands leave my back, and he moves to cross them in front of his chest. "For how long?"

I smile sweetly, and I reach for the hem of my tank top. He watches me pull it up over my head, and he licks his lips at the sight of my skin before him. His reactions are unconscious; he moves to spread his legs further apart, and his eyes seem to grow even darker. I lean into him, until my nose touches his. "You can't touch me until we're done." I kiss him for a second, but the moment my lips touch his he shakes his head.

"No."

"Yes," I answer him, fully aware I'm pushing his tolerance limits. Since the moment I've met him, Eric has been in control of nearly every aspect of our relationship. My training, where I lived, where I slept, and how quickly we progressed as a couple. I've never minded. The feeling of being with Eric is exhilarating, but in a surprisingly safe way. Despite the danger that others seem to associate with him, he's done nothing but protect me. Eric has made it very clear he'll never hurt me, and he has kept me safe by any means he could. He's never made any decisions that I haven't agreed with, and I've been more than happy to go along with him.

But now, I want to change direction just a bit.

I want to be the one in charge, even if it's just in this moment. There is something about Eric letting me take control of him that seems fraught with more danger than anything we've encountered before. Eric's only vulnerable moments come during our most intimate times together. It's easier for him to show me his feelings while we are tangled together, my name on his lips. Taking away some of his control during sex will piss him off, I'm sure. Or it might show him that I'm on the same level as him. As his wife, as a future leader in Dauntless, as the only person he's ever let love him.

I reach for him, gently prying his arms apart, and pull him forward. He grudgingly helps to shrug his shirt off, still looking reluctant to go along with what's happening.

"Why can't I touch you?" he asks curtly. He watches as I reach for the button on his pants, and swallows when I undo it.

"Because. You have to just stay still. So you don't touch my new tattoo," I explain to him. "You seem to have terrible self-control tonight." I rise up, enjoying the way he seems tense beneath me. For once he's not tense because he's irritated or irate. He's tense because he's aroused and enjoying this, but his brain is insisting that he doesn't want to be.

"I have terrible self-control? Says the woman currently taking my pants off, when all I was trying to do was kiss her goodnight," he retorts. I unzip his pants, taking my weight off of him to let him pull them down. He kicks them off without really moving, and I quickly climb back onto his lap.

I kiss him before he has a chance to say anything else. His lips fit against mine perfectly, and I close my eyes as I slip one hand around his neck. I dig my nails into his hair and I use my free hand to pin one of his hands to the side.

"That wasn't what you were doing and you know it." I say the words against his lips, and I groan when his hips jerk up towards me. He's already hard, and there's not a chance in hell he was simply kissing me goodnight. I can feel his other hand creep back around my side, his skin grazing mine. My eyes open and I shake my head, batting his arm away.

"You are an awful listener," I tell him.

Eric smirks. "Sorry, Amity. I'll try harder."

He gives me a mock apologetic look, sticking his lower lip out.

The expression drops off his face when I reach around my back, and I fumble with the clasp on my bra.

"You're serious," he states, his voice now strained. "You're going to just make me sit here while you undress on my lap." He says the words slowly, his voice dripping with disbelief. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if any girl has ever done this with him. Has he ever sat, attempting to keep his hands to himself, as someone else tried to take charge? Did he let them?

I toss the lacy excuse for a bra to the side and I pray that Ashley never got the chance to do this. Or if she did, that she looked like an idiot while attempting it.

"You could enjoy this," I point out as I straddle him, keeping myself on my knees and he groans.

"Just trust me, Eric," I mutter, and I can almost feel the frustration oozing out of his skin. He shifts uselessly, looking for some sort of friction and finding none. A half-second later he leans his head back, screwing his eyes shut.

"Everly." He says my name and I shiver.

I don't normally hear this tone from him until later. He sounds raw and feral, his voice filled with a lusty neediness that isn't usually revealed until he's close to coming. The muscles in his thighs are tight, straining with the effort of keeping himself in place.

"Hurry the fuck up and do something."

I smile at his words as I push my hair to one side of my head and decide I will take my time.

I kiss his jaw, finding the muscle that's always tensed and tight with irritation. I kiss my way down his neck, enjoying the taste of his salty skin and the way his pulse quickens as I press myself closer to him. He smells dizzyingly good, rich and spicy, like he's spent the past few hours in the forest and not in an office.

Despite not actually agreeing to my plan, Eric keeps his hands to himself.

I settle against him, eliciting a frustrated moan from him. "That's not what I meant," he grouses.

"Tilt your head to the other side," I tell him, and to his credit, he does.

I follow the same path on the other side, enjoying the way he's letting me explore him. I've spent countless nights with Eric, I've lain beneath him too many times to keep track of, and I've touched every inch of his skin I could. But not like this, not with him all warm and compliant beneath me.

The very idea of it is arousing.

"I love you," I tell him as I brush my lips against his softly. He opens his eyes up at me, and I catch sight of the war raging in his mind. His eyes are cloudy, filled with warm affection, a forceful longing, and a hint of desperation.

He stays still, and I let my hands fall to his chest.

Eric is impressive with his clothes on. He's broad and fit, and the fact that he could easily pound someone into the ground is obvious. And while he may be terrifying and ruthless, at least to others, it doesn't diminish the attractiveness of him.

A half-naked Eric is even better.

I let my fingers trail over his pectoral muscles, grazing over his hot skin while he bites his cheek. I work my way down his chest, over his abdomen, until my fingers are splayed out over his hips. He swallows forcefully when I toy with the waistband of his boxers.

"Everly…" He says my name but he trails off. His breathing is no longer calm and even; it's coming in shorter pants, as though he's struggling to remember to breathe. He grunts and inhales sharply when I tug the waistband down.

I meet his stare and I smile. One of his arms is flung back over the edge of the couch, and the other is balled into a fist by his side. He writhes beneath me, still attempting to find contact, and he hisses when I move away from him.

"I thought you said I would enjoy this." He throws me a dirty look, but it falls from his face when I slip my leggings and underwear off all at once. He doesn't say anything until I cock my head at him and stare at him intently.

"Lose your boxers," I tell him gleefully.

He blinks at me, unsure of how to react.

"They're in the way," I announce sassily. I'm enjoying the way he seems taken aback, and I come to the conclusion that no one has ever tried anything like this with him. Or he's never had enough patience to let them. "Unless you want to just go to sleep."

I pretend to study my nails, staring at the dark polish Christina had helped me paint on them. Eric is staring at me as though I've lost my mind, but I wait patiently. There's a fifty-fifty chance he'll actually go along with my request without exploding. After far too many heartbeats, he finally stands up, and with his eyes on me, he slides his boxers down his hips and kicks them to the side.

"Sit back down." I motion towards the couch, and though he flashes me an irritated glance, Eric obediently returns to the same spot as before, quirking an eyebrow questioningly in my direction. I don't give him a chance to do much; I pounce on him, settling myself back on his lap. "Now you're doing much better at listening," I purr, and the smirk returns to his face.

"You better be going somewhere with this."

"Oh, I am... eventually," I promise him, smiling at the way he scowls.

I don't want him to get too antsy, so I resume what I was doing. I kiss him softly, not letting him turn the kiss into anything rushed, and he relaxes when I part my lips for him. His tongue slips through them, finding my own. I push my hips into his, grinding myself against him. I can tell Eric is struggling to keep his hands back against the couch.

"Everly, so help me God, if you don't hurry up…" He snarls the words at me, and I shake my head. I can feel him beneath me; he's been hard since before he kicked off his boxers, and I drag my hips again, making sure I feel the entire length of him.

"What will you do? You can't touch me, remember?" I tease him. He looks up at me suddenly, his eyes flashing.

"One minute. You have one minute before I touch you and then fuck you into the floor," he declares, and I realize he's losing it. His words might sound intimidating, but I've got him right where I want him.

"Eric." I say his name, and I make sure he's looking at me. His eyes lock on mine, and I rise up until I can feel the head of him. "Is this what you want?" I ask him. Neither of us are breathing very easily now; Eric's still breathing in sharp pants, and he thrusts his hips upwards.

"Everly…" he growls, then lets out a moan when I ease myself down onto him. I give myself a moment to feel him, enjoying the way he fills me. I work my hips forwards, with little desire to ever stop.

He feels beyond good, and it has little to do with the physical act. There's an immense importance in the way I just I seduced him and in how he actually let me take charge. It might not seem like a huge step, but in the world of Eric, this is momentous.

I let my head fall back for a moment, but I'm jerked back to reality when I feel his hand splay across the base of my throat. His palm is large and warm, and I can't bring myself to push his hand away. He's staring at me with a look that makes my lungs constrict.

I can hear my pulse thudding loudly in my ears, along with the sound of Eric's breathing, the grunts that escape his lips and the sound of his skin against mine. There is nothing except him and me, lost in this moment together.

It's not long before I feel myself tensing up, the familiar feeling of my impending orgasm sending sparks through me. Eric seems to sense this, and he tries to slow his movements to lessen our pace. It doesn't work in his favor; my position allows me to keep the pace that I want, and he can't fight it. He struggles for a minute, his motions now sloppy and erratic before he finally gives in.

"Don't stop," he finally blurts out imploringly, and he's trying hard to keep his eyes open. I can tell he wants to close them, but he keeps them trained on me. "Everly," he groans. "Faster."

I don't want to stop; Eric is finally at ease, his head is thrown back and his throat is exposed. One of his hands is digging into the back of his couch, and the other has returned to his side, balled into a fist. For once, it's not out of anger; he's simply trying to keep his hands to himself.

The realization is overwhelming, and I suddenly can't hold back any longer. I want his hands on me, I want him holding onto me the same way he's held me against him every night. I've won this round, and now I want him to know how much it means to me.

"Eric," I gasp, and I reach for him. I claw at his arm, urging him closer to me. He seems to understand my silent wish for him to touch me, and he happily obliges.

One of his hands slides underneath my hair, cupping the back of my neck and tilting my head towards him. His other hand finds my hip, and he uses it to guide my actions. I lose myself in the sensations and the intimacies: the way he's gazing up at me as though he's never seen me before, the way I'm still the one in charge of the situation, the way he holds onto me the exact way I want him to.

Eventually everything becomes too much and my release is all-consuming. I can hear him saying my name repeatedly, his hips roughly slamming into me until I feel him stiffen and he groans my name. I let myself fall forwards, seeking out a familiar spot on his chest. All I can do is listen to the roar of his heartbeat, the pounding of my own, and feel the warmth of his skin.

His hand stays tangled in my hair, and he swallows thickly.

"Now I'm tired."

It's the last thing he says before my eyes slip shut.

 

 

I awake in our bed.

It's the middle of the night, and the room is pitch black save for a tiny bit of light coming from the hallway. I blearily rub at my eyes, realizing I'm still curled against his chest in almost the same position as before.

I glance up at him; I'm able to make out his face now that my eyes have adjusted, and he's peacefully dead asleep. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest and the slow and steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

I've woken up many times before, on nights just like this, but this one feels different in the best way possible.

 

 

"Be nice," I tell him softly, and Eric shakes his head.

The morning is off to a very tense start. Eric has dressed as though he is headed out to war; he has made sure he looks as intimidating as possible, including the scowl on his face. He smiled at me briefly when we walked down to meet the initiates, but it wasn't a very big smile. It left his face altogether when we heard the noise of the class before we even saw them.

Their buzz of excitement is only amplified by their loud shrieking and the way they can't stand still. They push and shove each other as they stand there, their tough façades giving way to a childlike enthusiasm that seems to bounce off the walls. The Dauntless-born share the same excitement, and it betrays the coolness they typically try to give off. One of them shoves his friend roughly, and he nearly collides with Eric. The poor kid's eyes widen, and he sharply tries to jerk out of the way. Fear flashes over his face as he stumbles back to his friends.

"Fantastic," Eric mutters, his posture stiff. He exhales sharply and walks us towards Four and Lauren, throwing the kid one final, nasty look. I watch as the guy shrinks back into his crowd of friends, realizing full well he's now on Eric's radar.

Lauren is watching us carefully, and she gives Eric a piercing look as we join them.

I don't know Lauren very well, and I sometimes think I never will. Her class is kept just as separate as I had been in the first stage of training; the Dauntless-born are almost never in the training room when we are, and if we happen to pass each other at all, there seems to be an underlying rivalry. It's minimal and good-natured compared to the one shared between Four and Eric, but still noticeable.

"Five minutes," Lauren yells out. She's dressed for the colder weather, and she tugs at the ends of her jacket sleeves. Her dark hair is pulled back into a severe ponytail, and she eyes Eric with an intense distrust. In all the time I've been helping with Four's class, I've talked to her exactly twice. Once was to say hello and introduce myself. She'd responded in a very clipped tone, informing me she knew who I was. The way her lips pressed together told me she'd spent at least a minute pondering my relationship with Eric. The second time I spoke to her was in passing, and she'd more or less stared at me as Four and I walked by.

Today, she eyes me up and down again before she turns back to her class. She doesn't say anything to us, but she throws back a curious stare when Four approaches Eric and me.

"Nice of you to join us," Four says unenthusiastically. He doesn't look at all happy with Eric's presence, but there isn't much he can do.

"Yes, well, it seems that anytime something bad happens to my wife, you're somehow involved. So here I am," Eric retorts, staring down Four. I close my eyes for a moment, knowing full well the entire training class is watching. While none of them have outright asked me what happened while I was gone, I'm sure they've heard the details or witnessed my husband raging through Dauntless.

"Guys, I think we should head to the train," I tell them cheerfully, stepping between Eric and Four. I reach for Eric's hand, pulling him towards me. They exchange one final tense look before Four nods wordlessly and walks towards the class.

"Eric." I say his name with a hint of exasperation. "Can you please, please…" I stop for a second until his eyes are locked on mine, "...please not harass Four during this trip?"

Eric's eyebrows disappear into his hair. "Harass Four? I'm not harassing him. I was merely pointing out the obvious reason why I'm accompanying you today."

I tighten my grip on his hand. "Eric."

He looks down at me, his features arranged in what can only be described as his best attempt at appearing innocent. He looks handsome — deadly, but handsome, and as far from innocent as he could possibly be. "Everly."

"This is important to me," I remind him, and he finally relents. He clenches his jaws together and his eyes skate to the side.

"Alright. I'll let you enjoy your trip, and I'll make sure Four doesn't accidentally leave you behind for the factionless to find."

I eye him warily, but I can't help the smile tugging at my lips. He's being ridiculous, but he's Eric. We're about to head to the outskirts of my old faction, the very same place where I had been hidden from him, and where Evelyn has been rumored to be. I can't really expect him to act like a normal person right now.

"Thank you," I finally tell him. I rise up on my toes to kiss his cheek, and he narrows his eyes at me. "And I'm glad you're coming with me."

He smiles in response, ignoring the way some of Lauren's class is openly gaping at him.

 

 

The Amity fence is familiar, not because I've spent a lot of time on it, but because the Amity fields behind it will always remind me of home. They stretch out farther than I remember, and they are dusted in a very fine layer of snow.

The air is sharp and painful as we head towards the fence, and I suddenly hope this is a short trip. Despite my layers of clothing I'm still freezing, and the wind doesn't seem to be letting up. Both classes are equally unprepared. There is an immediate wave of grumbling as we climb up the high staircase.

"Watch your footing," Four calls out. He's up at the front of the class, leading them towards the platform. I walk carefully, not wanting to slip, and I realize Eric is following so closely behind me that his chest touches my back.

"Careful, Amity. You slip out here and we'll have to apparate into Hogwarts and have them cast a healing spell to put your head back together."

He says the words loudly, and I can't help the giggles that escape. The last thing I want to do is fall again, especially not in Amity. Now that I've had proper medical care in Dauntless, I'd be afraid to set foot in the infirmary out here.

"Nope. Can't do that. It's not possible to apparate into Hogwarts, remember? So if I do happen to fall, please promise me you'll at least take me back to Dauntless," I toss slyly over my shoulder, and Eric laughs as we press upwards.

By the time we reach the platform I swear the temperature has dropped ten degrees.

"Everyone this way." Four is still far ahead, and I dutifully walk towards him. The classes are milling around, intermingling for the first time. While everyone is dressed in black, Lauren's class is a little more colorful. They are definitely more pierced compared to Four's class. I can spy only a few piercings here and there on the initiates in the class I'm helping to train. My observations are interrupted when Lauren stomps past me, a serious look on her face. With her hair up, I'm able to catch sight of the silver earrings that line her whole ear. She's intimidating to me, and I assume she's truly the best trainer for the Dauntless-born.

"This is the fence," she yells, and there are a few snickers, including one from Eric.

"No shit," he says dryly, louder than necessary, earning a few more giggles from the group. "Thank you for that astute observation, Lauren."

Lauren hears him clearly. She throws him a dirty look which he ignores.

"I can't wait 'til she points out which faction works the patrols out here."

I elbow him, and he finally shuts his mouth.

The classes push forward while Lauren drones on, and most take their time perusing the fields below them. From up here the view is dizzying; the fields seem endless and a bit eerie beneath the layer of fresh snow.

"Do all the lower-ranking initiates work these patrols?" a girl with short blonde hair asks. She looks nervous. I nod my head, remembering what Eric once told me about the fence patrols.

"Usually. There's some room for growth in the position, and the patrols are not limited to Amity," I tell her.

She nods, staring out over the large expanse in front of her. "Is there anything past these fields?"

"You don't really need to worry about that now," Four answers. He's come out of nowhere, and he gestures down at the fields below us. "If you are assigned this position, you'll be trained fully on what to do, what to expect, and the protocols to follow in case you ever need to leave the post."

The girl doesn't quite look reassured, but she offers him her thanks and rejoins her group of friends.

For a moment, there is a silence that falls over the classes. They are all lined up along the edge, their stares trained outwards. Aside from the howl of the wind, it's dead quiet up here.

"How long do you think we'll stay?" I ask Eric. He's standing beside me, and I've tried hard to resist pushing myself into his chest to warm up. He shrugs and squints his eyes at the sky.

"Typically, we plan on an hour to be out here. They're supposed to be taken to the station at the bottom, but I don't know if Four and Lauren will have time to tour that base."

"Why?" I look up at him. Eric's eyes find mine, and he turns into me, closing the distance between us. He reaches towards me and brushes my hair out of my eyes, and his sudden affection makes me feel warm.

"There's a storm coming, and it doesn't look good." He frowns, jerking his head towards the sky. I look up, realizing it is darkening quickly. Clouds are beginning to form into a solid mass, and the wind is picking up. "I think we're about to have a blizzard."

My heart sinks when I see he's right. The weather is taking an abrupt turn for the worse. I catch sight of Four working his way back through the class, and I wave him over to us.

"This weather is getting bad," he announces. He looks worried, and his eyebrows knit inwards. "We might want to head back now and catch the train before they stop running. Worst case scenario, we could try to get a few trucks from Dauntless to head out this way, if need be." He stares at us, his eyes fixed on Eric's hands still holding onto me.

Eric glances back at the class and shakes his head. "You won't get enough trucks out here to take both classes back in time." He suddenly cocks his head to the side, frowning suspiciously at the fields. "Did you see that?"

"Did I see what?" Four answers. He's looking even more uneasy now, jittery as the wind howls around us.

Eric takes a step away from me, stopping right at the rail. "There's someone out there." He sounds triumphant, and I swallow back the fear that runs through me.

"Do you think it's Evelyn?" I ask. Neither Four nor Eric answer me. "Eric? Four? Is it her?"

Eric snaps his attention back to me, his gaze flicking back to the fields after a second. "I'll stay here. You, Four, and Lauren take the class to the trains. I'll grab whoever's on patrol and take them out there with me."

Four shakes his head. "I should go with you. Lauren and Everly can take the classes back."

For a moment I think Eric will agree, but he shakes his head. "No, you take them all back. There's a patrol squad out here for this specific reason."

Four clenches his jaw; I wonder whether he wants to see if it really is his mother out there, or whether he simply doesn't want to listen to Eric.

"Then we'll wait it out. You head down there, take your squad, and then we'll all go back," Four reluctantly tells him. He doesn't look happy with this decision, and Eric shakes his head again.

"No. Take the class back now. That's an order, Four." Eric snaps the words, his patience growing thin. Four shrugs and turns on his heel. He's irritated, but he won't waste any more time arguing with Eric in front of the class.

I reach for Eric's arm and I pull him towards me. "I'm going with you."

Eric's posture changes and he glares at me. "Absolutely not."

"Eric," I start, and he cuts me off before I can say anything more.

"If you think for one minute I'd bring you down there…"

"So you want me to stay with Four? You just said something bad always happens when I'm with him. And you want me to walk back to the trains with him? What if this is a trick? What if they're waiting for us?" I point out. "It would be awfully convenient for them to attack while I'm walking back with the class. And you want Four to be the one I'm with if that happens?"

Eric stares at me. The wind is still just as harsh as before, and now there are heavy flakes starting to fall from the sky. I watch a few catch in his hair, and he frowns.

"I'm more than capable of coming with you. We'll go down there and check things out. Then we can go home. Together," I tell him firmly. "I am not going back with Four. He and Lauren can take the classes back."

Eric still hasn't said anything. He just looks at me for what seems like ages before he raises an eyebrow and shrugs stiffly, his gaze now fixed off in the distance.

"Okay."

 

 

Ten minutes later, I'm both thrilled and pissed off.

I'm thrilled Eric has agreed to let me come with him; in fact, he hardly protested at all. He seemed grudgingly proud when we walked into the patrol station together, where he snapped at them to round up their team.

I didn't become pissed off until we trudged out through the fields and I found myself dragging my boots through wet snow. I picked a terrible time to assert myself. I should have waited until spring. At least I wouldn't be trampling through soggy crops in freezing temperatures.

"This way," Eric calls out, and everyone follows him with their weapons drawn. I keep my eyes trained ahead of me. So far, there's been nothing but empty fields, without so much as a trace of footprints in the snow. The soldiers march onwards, keeping formation behind Eric and me. None of the men and women are familiar to me; they're all older and rather stern-looking. I wonder if they've been trained to look for Evelyn.

"How far are we going?" I ask Eric. I pull my jacket closer to me, wishing I'd been smart enough to bring gloves and a scarf.

"A hundred yards further. We'll split up, then rendezvous in twenty minutes," he answers briskly, a confident soldier deploying his troops. He doesn't look the least bit bothered by the cold.

"Do you think it was her?" I try to keep up with him, pushing myself to continue forwards. The snow is sticking, and it's falling faster and faster. I brush a swirl of flakes out of my eyes and I blink up at the sky. Despite it being late morning, the sky is drearily dark and cloudy.

"I don't know. I can't imagine who else would want to be out here right now," he points out.

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself. Eric comes to a halt and motions to the left.

"Half of you take the left side. Don't waste my time. You find anyone, you take them back to the station, no questions asked, understood?" he barks, and they all nod quickly. I follow him to the right, hesitating only for a moment before I decide I don't really want to walk the perimeter without him.

We walk along in silence. Eric leads the way, and I stay beside him.

"Eric," I call his name, and he whips his head towards me. "I don't know if Evelyn could survive out here." I've been trying to think of somewhere she could hide herself and an entire army, but I can't think of anywhere. There's not really any shelter amongst the crops, let alone past the edge of the fields.

"I'm sure she could find a way," Eric retorts flippantly. "You saw how resourceful she is."

"What if she went beyond the wall? Are you going to follow her there?" I reach for his arm, grabbing it tightly, and he slows his pace the tiniest bit. "Will you kill her if you find her?"

Eric looks at me and he sighs heavily. "I don't know, Everly. I haven't given it that much thought. I'd shoot her on sight, sure." He shrugs. "Bringing her back to Dauntless for interrogation seems far too kind for the woman who kidnapped my wife and tried to wipe her memory."

"I know," I tell him, further tightening my grip on his arm. We've neared a clearing, and I tug him towards me again. "I just want to make sure she can't hurt anyone else."

Eric nods at me, his expression severe. "You don't need to worry about her hurting you or anyone else ever again."

We march past the clearing, and I fall in step with Eric. After a few more minutes we come to a stop, and I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed when we find no one out here.

The fields are empty and the pathways that line the outskirts are empty as well. There's nothing out here but newly frozen crops and a shitload of snow that's rapidly building up. I stand close to Eric, wishing I could wrap myself around him. The wind feels like glass on my exposed skin, and the chill seeps through to my bones.

When there is not a single sighting of anyone in the fields, and still no trace of footprints anywhere, Eric barks orders for everyone to head back. He doesn't utter a word as we trudge along the same way we came, and he looks annoyed. We arrive at the station moments after the others, and everyone quietly relays their findings. Eric asks one of the female soldiers monitoring a handful of cameras whether the initiate classes made it onto the train back to Dauntless. We're both relieved when she answers with a brisk, "Yes, Sir."

Eric turns his attention back to the squad that accompanied us out into the fields as they swap theories about the mystery figure Eric saw.

"It might have just been someone from Amity. Some of them like to hunt the deer that occasionally roam through here, and there might have been one idiot out there tonight," a short, burly man offers up. He looks exasperated; his cheeks are red from the cold and I know he's just as frozen as I am. I try not to take offense at what he says; I'm far from Amity, but his contempt-filled words are unnecessary.

"We should probably call off the next patrol. The snow doesn't seem to be letting up," one of them announces, and Eric shakes his head firmly.

"Absolutely not. You're all to return to your assigned patrols. If the weather prevents you from physically maintaining your post, you're to head inside and you can monitor from there." He stops and turns to stare down the man who dared suggest they go home. "I'm sure you're well aware all posts are on high alert. I don't really give a fuck whether or not the snow lets up."

The man stays silent, biting his cheek to keep from answering Eric. It's clear he knows better than to reply, but he looks pissed off at Eric's orders.

Eric dismisses the group decisively, and I smile at a few of them as I walk after him. It's not until I hear the man's quiet retort that I feel a sharp sliver of panic.

"He'll give a fuck when he realizes the trains are stopped and he's stuck here."

 

 

"It's really nice to see you again."

Johanna's words are even and soft, and her eyes bounce from Eric to me. I smile at her, trying hard to keep the feeling of déjà vu from sweeping over me. Since my transfer to Dauntless, I've returned to Amity several times. Each visit has brought up different emotions, and every time I return, I have felt less and less like I ever belonged here. Right now I feel awkward, like I haven't stood in this same spot countless times before.

"Sorry to drop in on you like this. We got caught in the storm, and the trains have stopped running," I tell her, shifting my weight. I'm still freezing, even in the warmth of Johanna's office. She was in the stables when we walked in, and her face lit up when she saw us.

"This is quite the storm we are having," she answers serenely, as though there is not a blizzard beginning to rage outside. I push a piece of snow-dampened hair out of my eyes. A small part of me is relieved we aren't back with the class, and an even bigger part of me is relieved we didn't find Evelyn. But I'm not sure how we will get back to Dauntless, and Eric seems utterly unenthused to be back in the center of the Amity compound, judging by the low growl that's emanating from him.

"Does your computer work? We need a way to contact Dauntless and let Max know where we are." Eric sounds disinterested, like he knows full well we're stuck and Max won't be sending help anytime soon.

Johanna smiles, patient as ever, and shakes her head. "I haven't tried it since it started snowing. You're more than welcome to use my computer if you wish. Perhaps you could attempt to contact him while I talk with Everly?"

Eric shoots me a funny look, but he shrugs and wordlessly heads upstairs.

Johanna touches my elbow and nudges me towards the horses. "I didn't think we'd see you back here so soon. Even with your mother's offer," she says with a hint of a smile.

I shake my head. "I wasn't planning on it." I stare at the horse for a moment, then turn back to Johanna. "We were taking the classes on a field trip and Eric and I went to check something in the fields. You haven't seen anyone out there, have you?" For a horrific moment I think she might reveal something; maybe she's known all along what was going on and had offered Evelyn shelter.

As if she can see the panic on my face, Johanna furiously shakes her head. "I haven't seen Evelyn. I know why she's on the run and I would never think of offering her sanctuary here. I'm well aware of the protocol when it comes to her." She takes a step closer to me and lowers her voice. "There are some people in this world that do not deserve forgiveness. It's not a sentiment I always agree with, but in her case, it is one I strongly believe in."

She reaches out to touch my elbow again and she locks her stare with mine. "You and Eric are stuck here until this storm is done. You do realize that, right?"

I hadn't really thought of that, but I nod at her.

"It could be a few days."

I jerk my head towards her, my eyes widening.

"You both are more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you need. It might be nice for the two of you to spend a few nights away from Dauntless." She says the words gently, and I suddenly don't feel so down. In fact, I perk up considerably. There are far worse ways I could spend my time than holed up in Amity with Eric during a terrible snowstorm. This might just be the getaway I'd been hoping for.

"Thank you," I tell her, a coy smile creeping across my face. Johanna smiles back at me warmly, her eyes alight with unspoken amusement.

A moment later we hear the heavy thud of Eric's boots as he descends the stairs, a grim expression on his face.

 

 

"So there's no connection at all?" I ask Eric. He pulls his jacket off and tosses it haphazardly onto the dresser. Johanna had led us to the same room we'd stayed in the last time we were here. The room holds both great and not-so-great memories; it's the first place Eric ever told me he loved me, but it's also the same room I stayed in when my father passed away. The sharp pain of that awful day has dulled to melancholy over this past year. I feel his absence most when I think of my mother, still with young children to care for on her own.

Eric shakes his head and scowls. "Everything is down. I'm sure most factions are running off backup generators." He glances around the room, noting the fire that's been lit and the curtains that have been drawn open. Despite it being just after lunchtime, it's dark and stormy outside; the sun has almost completely vanished, making it seem like nighttime. The room isn't cold by any means, but I know the minute the fire burns out, it'll be freezing.

"How long do you think we'll have to stay here?" I follow his lead and pull off my jacket. My clothes feel heavy from the cold and wet snow. I head towards the bathroom, and am struck by inspiration when I spy the shower; I decide to take advantage of the hot water while I can.

"A few days, maybe. Hopefully the storm lets up soon, but it looks like a bad one." Eric sounds grouchy as he appears behind me, and he yanks his shirt off over his head. "Are you taking a shower?"

I nod and reach for the hem of my shirt. "Before all the hot water runs out."

Eric smirks, tossing his shirt to the side, and I realize he might just enjoy being stuck in Amity.

 

 

I'm right.

It turns out to be obnoxiously romantic lying in bed with Eric while the fire burns. Eric's fingers are in my hair, lazily sifting through the strands. I've curled myself against him, my head resting on his naked chest while I listen to the storm and the crackling of the fire. He suddenly doesn't seem all that bothered that we are stuck here, and he's been visibly less annoyed since he realized we are neatly tucked away from the majority of Amity. Including my mother.

"Are you tired?" I ask him, letting my fingers trace over his skin.

He shakes his head no, and I realize this is the perfect time to talk to him. He's full from dinner, or as full as one can be when they are selectively eating only what they deem to be the safest foods. He's warm and content, and judging from the calm look in his eyes, he's fully relaxed and growing a little sleepy, enough that he won't be entirely defensive.

I push myself up from my spot against his chest and stare down at him. He smiles lazily, stretching slightly against the starkly white sheets.

"Eric, how do you feel about having a baby?"

In an instant, his eyes narrow, and I watch any trace of sleepiness vanish from his eyes.

"I think we should talk about this. And since we're stuck here, this might be a good time," I tell him, noting the way he immediately pushes himself into a sitting position, exhaling sharply.

"We've discussed this before," he says, his words clipped and irritated. I can see his defenses are up already, and I act quickly. I move until I'm over him, settling myself on top of him. He leans his head back, and throws me a knowing look.

"Nice try, Amity." He reaches for me, his hands coming to rest on my waist, and I shake my head at him.

"Eric, I'm serious." I reach forward, my hands sliding around his neck so they rest at his nape. "I haven't been on any sort of birth control since before I was held captive by Evelyn. Arlene wrote me a prescription right after our anniversary dinner, but I haven't started it yet. I want to make sure you and I are on the same page first."

At Arlene's name he stiffens, probably disliking anyone knowing such intimate information about us.

"I don't want to wind up pregnant if that isn't something you want." I pause, watching Eric stare at the comforter. He doesn't move his glare from the fluffy white fabric until I say his name again. "Eric, this is something we have to decide together."

I refuse to back down. Eric had taken it upon himself to arrange our marriage, a marriage that I willingly went along with. But if he wants to have a wife and wants to have a fully functioning marriage, then he needs to open himself up a bit. It isn't that I mind prying information out of him; in fact, I've gotten rather good at unraveling him. But this is something we need to discuss honestly before I can even start to make such a huge decision.

"Everly," he says carefully, "I've already told you. I'm fine with whatever you want." He shrugs and keeps his gaze somewhere beside me.

"But what do you really want?" I prod gently. I work myself a bit closer to him, making sure there is little space between us. He finally looks up at me, his grey eyes stoic as they meet mine. "Are you afraid of what kind of parents we'd be? I mean, are you concerned because of how Daniel and Blythe raised you?"

He doesn't answer, and defeat is quickly washing over me. Bringing his parents into this discussion isn't a great idea; his relationship with his mother is so volatile that it could set him off. But he's obviously thawed a bit and seems to be working towards building something with Daniel at least, and even if he's moving at a snail's pace, it's something more than they had previously. He needs to know I think he's better than that, that he's capable of giving far more than what little Blythe and Daniel had graced him with.

"Can I tell you something?" I ask him, knowing he's listening even if he's rendered himself silent. "It's a lot, all of this. Sometimes, I feel a little overwhelmed by it." He jerks his eyes back to me, and they flash with something that looks like worry. "I mean, I want everything for us. And sometimes I think about having a baby, and being a leader in Dauntless, and making you happy, and it seems like a lot on my plate. But I want it all with you, every last piece of our lives together. I just need to know what pieces of that life you want."

Eric exhales sharply. "I've told you before." His eyes bore into mine, and I hold his stare.

"I talked about it with Daniel. I think you'd be a great father, and so does he. He wishes he'd done things differently, and this could be a chance for you both to get to know each other better. But I only want it if you do, Eric."

"Get off of me." After I utter his father's name he all but hisses his words, his spine straightening instantly. "Everly, I don't want to talk about…"

"A baby?" I interrupt him, suddenly impatient with all of his evasions. I refuse to get off of him, and I refuse to let him dismiss this conversation. "I'm not getting off of you until you tell me how you feel and what you want. You can't just say whatever I want, because what I want might not be what you want." I tighten my grip around his neck, and he looks at me with a funny expression. My action is useless, really. If Eric wanted to, he could stand up and toss me aside easily, and we both know it.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he simply explodes.

"What do I want?" He jerks his head back a bit, and he looks insulted. "How many times do I have to tell you that I want you? I've done everything I can to show you. I announced to the entire compound that you were my wife. How could you not know what I want?"

If this was several months ago, I would have slipped off his lap. I would have adjusted my nightgown nervously or looked at him apologetically, or he would have smashed his lips against mine and this conversation would be long forgotten. But not tonight.

"I just need to know what you want for us. If you want us to have a family, then I'll throw the birth control away and we'll see what happens. If you want to wait, or you don't want a family, I'll get off of you and start the pills right now." I keep my words quiet and soft, continuing to press myself against him. I can feel him relax a fraction; he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I wait, hoping he will fill in the silence himself.

"I don't want to pressure you into anything you aren't ready for," he finally answers, saying the words lowly — so low that I almost don't hear him. "I've put a lot on you already. I haven't asked you about any of it. I didn't think it was fair of me to push you into anything else, especially not this."

I freeze against him, silently taking in his admission. "Eric…"

He shakes his head, and one of his palms is now pressed against my back. "You are the only one I would ever consider having a child with." He stares directly at me now, his eyes darkening to a slate color, and he looks more serious than ever. "I want only the best for you. It's why I put you in the leadership program. You have patience and a calm insight into things that most of Dauntless does not. Adding a child to that would not be easy. It's not impossible, but it wouldn't be the easiest route to go. I felt it would be selfish of me to ask any more of you than I already have."

I'm taken aback.

I'd never given much thought to what Eric felt about my leadership training. I'd worked hard to learn everything he'd ever taught me, and I'd worked hard to learn to train the initiates. My only break had been to go off and get kidnapped, but other than that, I'd focused on what I had wanted to do. It hits me suddenly that I've enjoyed it all. I've enjoyed every second of Eric's training, every minute I've spent learning more and more about the factions, and every minute I've used to train the current initiate class.

"Maybe I could do it all." My words are barely a whisper, spoken aloud before I can really think them through.

"If there is anyone in Dauntless who could juggle all that, it would be you," he tells me emphatically, a hint of yearning in his expression. He's still staring at me, his head cocked slightly to the side. "And if it were up to me, I would say yes, we should go ahead and have a family before something stupid happens or I lose you again."

I stare back at him.

He's completely serious, steadfast and confident in his statement. His eyes never waver; they meet mine resolutely, insistently, and his jaw juts forward slightly as if he's challenging me to contradict him. My mind flashes back to a time when I questioned him about having a baby, when I interrupted one of his meetings to loudly ask him if he'd decided for us that we were having children, and the way his shoulders had slumped when he'd told me not to worry about it.

The memory sends me reeling; he'd been telling me what he wanted all along. The night I couldn't remember him, or even my own self, yet I'd urged him on despite the risk of pregnancy. He hadn't hesitated once after I asked him if he was okay with the potential outcome. He'd wanted this the entire time, a silent, unspoken desire for a family that he would never voice out loud. Not until now.

"Oh." I don't know what to say, and he suddenly looks uncomfortable, deflating at my less-than-enthusiastic response.

"Everly, we don't have to..." He starts to speak and I interrupt him again.

"No!" I blurt out anxiously. I don't want him to retreat from me. "I want this, too, Eric. I mean, in a way I sorta thought you did, I just never really put it all together."

Eric smirks at me, and he reaches his free hand to lightly touch my cheek. "Everly, I know full well you haven't been on any sort of birth control. If I was worried about the outcome, I would have marched your ass back to Arlene and demanded you start something." He raises an eyebrow at me, and I am relieved he looks more like Eric again. "I'm not stupid."

I grin at him. "I certainly don't think you're stupid, Eric."

He smiles at me, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "We could get a start on things right now, you know."

I can't help but giggle. His hands leave my waist and find the bottom of the flimsy nightgown I'd thrown on. He tugs it up easily, not bothering to move me off his lap. I bite the side of my lip when he returns his eyes to mine; he looks downright playful.

"Oh, I told your dad we'd have dinner with him next week," I interject before I forget, and he immediately scowls.

"Can we not talk about my father right now?" He grimaces, and I try not to laugh.

"It's important," I answer, watching him roll his eyes. He nods, but his eyes are on my shoulder, and his fingers follow his gaze. He reaches out to trace the skin there, and I remember the first time I ever asked him how he felt about his father while I sat in a very similar position.

"I'm aware," he mutters idly, his attention distracted. He lets his hand curl around my shoulder, his palm warm as he lazily moves it down my back. He stops just above my lower back, and then finally smirks at me.

"No more distractions, Everly."

I give in to Eric easily. My nightgown has been tossed somewhere to the side of the bed, and the room is quiet except for the fire and the storm raging on outside. Eric continues to delicately trace his fingers along my skin, making me shiver whenever he skims over sensitive spots. He closes the remaining space between us, and one of his hands finds its way into my hair. He holds me in place against him as he kisses me, far softer than he's ever kissed me before, his lips gentle against mine.

It doesn't last long, naturally.

Eric is capable of kissing me sweetly, but only until the spark that burns between us erupts and overtakes us. His kiss soon turns demanding, and he changes our position until I'm beneath him, breaking the silence by murmuring my name. Eric's mouth takes a familiar path down my neck, across my collarbone and up the other side at a maddeningly slow pace. His boxers soon join my nightgown on the floor, and he nudges my legs apart. I wait for him to hurry things along, but instead he takes his time, torturing me with the same slow pace I'd used on him.

When he finally groans my name and collapses on top of me, I hug him to me tightly. I'm warm and happily drunk on this moment. He's given me everything I could possibly want right now, everything I could have asked of him.

We stay entwined until I loosen my grip on him. Eric rolls to the side to take his weight off of me, reaching one hand out to graze along my cheek before he slides it into my hair. His actions are gentle, tender as he curls his fingers into the messy strands.

"Everly." He says my name, keeping his eyes locked on my own. My heart beats wildly as I wait for him to finish, but it's worth every painfully long second. "I love you."


	43. Landon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an outtake for this chapter, and it'll be posted in the next few days, but it will be posted on FF. NET and probably not here. It's so super long, that I don't know how to post it without making it a separate chapter. Which I could, I guess lol.   
> Anyways, thank you for your patience :)

It snows for hours.

Endless, heavy, wet flakes fall from the sky, building up in large drifts against the wooden cabins. It's pretty to watch, but I'm relieved when it finally starts to lessen. The change is gradual; it happens after the hours pass, and the snow seems to glisten in the moonlight, sparkling as the lighter snowflakes flutter in the wind. By this time, Eric is fast asleep, his unprompted words still hanging in the air. I watch from the comfort of the bed, my head on Eric's broad chest.

I don't mind any of this one bit.

I bury myself closer to Eric. His breathing is slow and deep; in his sleep, he's completely relaxed. One of his arms is flung to the side, and the other is curled around my waist, keeping me close to him. I think about what he's said, his voluntary 'I love you' uttered in the exact same place he said it the first time, and I feel blissfully happy.

He's all I've ever wanted, and he's helped me to create the life that I so desperately wished for when I left Amity. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had he never invited me into his bed, never offered to let me sleep beside him. It has gone far beyond just allowing me to be close to him, and sometimes I think he might not realize how immense his actions were.

For both of us.

I fall asleep against him, and there's no place I'd rather be.

 

 

It's early in the morning when I watch the sun rise from the large windows, wrapping my arms around myself to stay warm. All of the compound is still silent; although it's snowing more moderately right now, everyone's actions have ceased until the snowfall lets up completely.

We've been in Amity for three days, and we haven't left this room once. There's no reason to. All of Amity is shut down, except for a few dedicated souls who still man the kitchens. Someone has dutifully dropped off our meals, not bothering us past politely knocking on the door.

Though I don't want to let her occupy my thoughts any more than necessary, I try to imagine Evelyn out there, scrounging for shelter and food in the snowy wasteland. I wonder if she's made it to the wall? Past the wall? Was it any better out there? Could she survive in such a storm?

I watch the snow start up again — at first, just light flakes that seem to protest as they fall to the ground, then a dense flurry as they pick up in speed and intensity. I feel Eric when he comes up behind me, his strong arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me back against his solid form. He's still warm from the bed, and I know Eric has no real desire to be up at this hour. It should feel extravagant to have spent so much time in bed together; instead, it really doesn't feel like enough.

"It's awfully early to be up looking at the snow." Eric's words are rumbled in my ear in a low, rich voice.

I lean back into him. "I couldn't sleep."

It's the truth. I'd woken from a dead sleep, and despite my comfortable surroundings, I hadn't been able to fall back asleep. It isn't a terrible problem to have; I enjoy the quiet, and I had stayed pressed against Eric until I decided to see if the storm was lessening.

"Do you think we'll be able to leave soon?" I ask him, my eyes still trained on the snowfall. Although still steady, it looks a little bit better out there. I can't even begin to imagine that the trains are running yet. I don't mind staying in Amity, and I know Eric certainly hasn't minded spending the past few days in bed, but I'm starting to think we'll never be able to leave, and maybe I will end up living here again.

The ridiculousness of the thought makes me smile.

"Doesn't matter," Eric answers offhandedly. "We can't go anywhere until it's clear enough that the trains can run. Unless you want to walk back." He pulls me tighter against him and I shake my head. I feel his head rest on top of mine and I relish in the safe feeling of him.

"I'll pass, thanks. We can stay here," I answer him wistfully, suddenly feeling an impulsive urge to crawl back into bed with Eric and stay there for the day. I feel him pull me backwards, and I fall with him willingly.

I know he feels the exact same way.

 

 

The snowstorm finally comes to a complete stop two days later.

After days of my skin being warmed by Eric's, the outside air feels biting. We walk along the snow-covered pathways to the Dome, and I stick close to his side. Amity has come alive now, members waking up slowly as though they've all been under some sort of sleepy spell. A few small children rush past me, excited to no longer be cooped up.

Eric and I find ourselves at breakfast with the community, and I fervently wish I was back in our room. The Dome is cold, but after so many days of being snowed in, everyone mills around as though it's a warm spring day. My patience grows thin when someone bumps into me for the third time before delightedly announcing my name, and Eric smirks at the look on my face.

"No clue why you didn't want to stay here, Everly," he remarks as we walk away, and I resist the urge to shove him into Gladys and her tray of croissants.

"When will the trains be running again?" I ask him, trying to politely smile at the familiar faces. It takes far longer than I'd like to find an empty table, but I'm relieved when we finally sit down at one that's quiet and out of the way. I've been a little surprised to discover that, while spending several days secluded with Eric is everything I hoped it would be, I still want to be home. I want to sleep in my own bed, in my own apartment, with Eric beside me. I don't want to see any more snow, and I certainly don't want to be blearily eating breakfast in freezing temperatures while my mother enthusiastically heads towards our table.

"Oh, good. Your mother's here," Eric announces dryly, looking up from his plate. I'm half-tempted to torture him and tell him not even the fruit is safe to eat, but I don't get the chance. My mother sits down across from me and she grins widely.

"Everly! Eric! How could you two not tell me you were here?" she asks. There is nothing mean in her tone; she's just overly excited at the sight of us at breakfast.

"Easily," Eric mutters under his breath, and I kick him while smiling at my mother.

"We got kind of stuck," I tell her, never wishing harder that one of my brothers or sisters would appear and need something. It's much too early in the morning for her to be here, and I'm not quite awake enough to answer all her pressing questions. "The snowstorm made it so the trains couldn't run. We weren't planning on staying here, but we didn't have much choice. But it was nice to spend some time with just the two of us."

Her face falls for a moment, and I feel like a huge jerk. Keeping to ourselves had nothing to do with her. Well, not entirely. "We've both been really busy lately," I tell her, trying not to look at Eric. I can almost feel him waiting for my mother to offer up some cringe-worthy commentary.

"That sounds lovely, dear," she waves her hand at me and takes a sip of her tea. "It sounds like exactly what you two need. I'm sure your lives in Dauntless are very action-packed."

Eric gingerly takes a bite of his eggs, swallows, then clears his throat before addressing my mother. "They are. This has been a nice break. But in an odd coincidence, Everly was just talking about apparating by some time to see you." He flashes her a smile and raises his eyebrows in mock delight.

I glare at him.

My mother looks confused. She throws him a funny look, and eventually nods her head. "You two are more than welcome to come by anytime. Zander has been asking for you. So have Paisley and Holly. And Leif and Wesley. They miss seeing you around."

"I'll have to come by. I miss them a lot." I can feel Eric's eyes on me, and I know he's calculating just exactly how many children my mother has. We haven't really discussed my siblings; the topic has simply never come up. I'm older than all of them, and I spent a lot of years with them all over me. I love each of them and enjoyed being close with them; I just wish someone had bothered to ask me if I wanted to watch them. My transfer to Dauntless marks the first time I have been responsible for myself and only myself.

"I have some things for you," my mother answers before Eric can say anything. "I wasn't sure how to get them to Dauntless, so it works out well that you are here. And something for your dad as well, Eric."

To his credit, Eric simply nods. I'm sure he's hesitant to ask what she's got for his father, or maybe he's too afraid to find out what's she's concocted. But he stays silent, taking another bite of his eggs.

"Great," I respond, finally taking a bite of my breakfast. "We'll come by sometime after lunch?"

"Sure. How long are you staying?" she asks, and she tightens her shawl around her. The Dome is warmer now, but still a lot colder than normal. I pull my own jacket tighter, trying to stall before I answer my mother's question.

"We'll head back as soon as the trains are running," Eric announces and he glances around the Dome. It's completely full now; everyone is spilling into the free space, happy to be able to eat together. An annoyed look flashes across his face before he turns back to Eden. "Though this has been a very productive trip."

My mother throws me a knowing look, and I focus my attention on the way the community seems to part for Johanna. She's walking through the Dome with a determined look on her face, and I realize she's looking for us.

 

 

"Do you think you're pregnant?"

My mother's words echo across the kitchen. Her house is full, with everyone home today. The snow has canceled all plans, all work, and all schooling. Zander is playing not-so-quietly in the living room, Holly and Paisley are each sitting on the couch, their noses buried in books, Leif is helping out by shoveling the snowy paths around the house, and my oldest brother, Wesley, is not-so-subtly listening to our conversation while he slowly chews his sandwich. I throw him a dirty look, and he rolls his eyes but doesn't move. Apparently, this is too fascinating of a subject for him to miss out on.

"Or is that why Eric said this trip was productive? Are you trying to have a baby?"

I watch as my mother works on something on her kitchen counter. There are all sorts of herbs and flowers, several vials filled with oil-like substances, and a set of empty vials. I don't know what she's making, but I watch her with curiosity. She cuts up a few of the herbs before tossing them into a pot on the stove, and she turns to cut some of the flowers up. She pauses and stops to look right at me.

"Is it expected for you two to have children?" She frowns, as though the idea has just occurred to her.

"Expected by whom? The leaders of Dauntless? No. No one has ever told me I'll be forced to have a child if I don't want one," I answer, throwing her a bemused look. "They don't have any rules about that sort of thing."

My mother looks relieved. "I just thought maybe since Eric is one of the leaders of the faction, you might be expected to provide some sort of legacy."

I shake my head. "No. Not in any way. If I told him I didn't want a child, he'd be fine with it." I reach for the book on the table and flip it open. Now that Eric has made his feelings perfectly clear, I'm much more confident about making this decision.

"How did you know you and Dad were ready to have a baby?" I ask her the question without looking at her. This is the first time we've spoken of my father since his passing, and I can feel my chest tighten at the mention. I wonder what he would have thought of all this.

My mother doesn't answer me for a moment. She sorts some herbs quietly before she shrugs. "I just knew. I couldn't imagine not having a family with your father, and it seemed like there was no better time. None of us are guaranteed forever. Especially not someone in your position."

I nod and skim the table of contents.

"You must be considering it if you're bringing it up," she presses gently.

"We've talked about it," I answer her. I watch her out the corner of my eye, pretending to be fascinated with the book in front of me. It's some sort of astrology guide, and I skim through the pages looking for Eric's birthday. I don't really believe in this stuff, but I'm mildly curious. "He told me he wants a family," I toss out offhandedly.

She nods and finishes her chopping. "I think he'd be a good father. He's very intense. But in a good way. Like he would do anything to protect you."

"He has," I answer. I find Eric's birthday and let my fingers trace over the picture of his astrological sign. I read over the characteristics and my fingers hover over the last paragraph.

When it comes to love, Capricorns are ever devoted and never emotive.

"You worked well with the children here. And you've always been wonderful with your brothers and sisters," my mother says brightly. Wesley makes a face, and I ignore him.

"I've always been surrounded by children," I tell her, hoping I don't sound rude. "I wouldn't want to have that many. And besides, it will be a little different raising a child in Dauntless rather than Amity."

My mother nods, her eyes fixed on the pot in front of her. "Of course it will. Amity and Dauntless are very different. I'd imagine you'll have to adapt to the way Dauntless prefers their young to be raised. And you'll have to find lots of very small black outfits."

I glance up at her sharply and realize I can't tell if she's being serious or not.

"There are a lot of things I like about having grown up in Amity," I tell her, shutting the book. I'd found nothing enlightening. I could have written a better description about Eric's astrological sign. "And there are a lot of things I like about Dauntless."

"You can take the best of both worlds and use what you like. And besides, Eric would be adorable with a baby."

I try not to laugh at that. I watch her mix up her potion, slowly stirring it around, and I realize it's almost mid-afternoon. "Do you think Sophia and Courtney are busy?" I ask suddenly. "I meant to stop by and say hello to them as well."

My mother shrugs as she stirs the boiling water. The smell is familiar in a comforting way, and she's probably making something I've drunk my entire life. "Head over there now. I don't think anyone is too busy in this weather."

"Everly." My mother says my name suddenly, and her tone holds a hint of seriousness behind it that is normally not there. "Make sure the decision is your own, honey. You're awfully young. You and Eric have miles to go in your relationship, with or without adding a child to it. But if you feel like you are ready — and I don't doubt you'd make a wonderful mother — then go for it."

I look up at her in surprise. Out of everyone's input on Eric and me, my mother's words surprise me the most. I thought for sure she'd jump all over the idea, or sneakily send me home with something to hurry up the process.

"Thank you. I'll be back in a bit, and I can pick up whatever you have for me then," I tell her.

My mother smiles, and I can tell she's back to being distracted, easily lost in her own world of whatever she's making.

 

 

Sophia and Courtney are thrilled to see me, and even more thrilled that Eric is in Amity with me.

"That snowfall was insane. But it's cool that you guys have been stuck here," Sophia announces with a grin. She brought cookies with her, and we're huddled around the kitchen table at Courtney's parents' house. Her mother was elated to see me, and she hugged me tightly before dragging me towards the kitchen and rushing away to grab something for us to drink.

"It was so boring with everyone stuck inside. Did you and Eric do anything besides each other?" Courtney asks as she hands me a cookie. She's raised one eyebrow at me, and she looks like she already knows the answer.

"Courtney," her mother scolds gently, even though the expression on her face is amused. "Be polite. If you're going to ask about your friend's sex life, do it quietly. Or go upstairs."

Courtney throws her mother an exasperated look, and Sophia tries hard to keep a straight face.

"Fine," Courtney announces loudly. "Everly, would you like to come upstairs so we can talk about your boring married sex life?"

This time even her mother laughs, and I forget about everything but how good it feels to laugh with them.

 

 

I stop laughing a little while later.

We've taken over the floor in Courtney's room, and our girl talk takes a different turn when Courtney asks me if Eric ever wanted to know any details about Landon.

"Do you think he compares your relationship to the one you had with Landon?" Courtney asks, her eyes fixed on me.

"I doubt he ever thinks about that. There really isn't any comparison anyway," I point out. I try to ignore the bad feeling that Landon's name brings up, but it doesn't work.

"Does he ever ask you about him?" Sophia inquires, and she sounds hesitant. "Does he ever wonder why you were back here with him?"

"He's asked a few things. But I don't think he really wants to hear anything about Landon," I tell them. "He pretty much hates him."

"I would hate him, too. I mean, he brought you back here out of nowhere and pretended everything was good. Even when it was clear you weren't happy to be here," Courtney tells me.

"I wasn't, that's true. I don't think I ever could be. Eric and I haven't talked much about my time here. Eric doesn't even know Landon was the one who brought me to Amity instead of Dauntless."

The room falls eerily silent.

"He doesn't know?" Courtney raises her eyebrows, and she pushes her hair out of her eyes. "You didn't tell him, Everly?"

A feeling of guilt rushes through me. "At the time, I didn't even give it a second thought. Eric took me back to Dauntless, and I spent all my time trying to remember him and who I was."

Sophia doesn't answer right away. She's busy fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. She finally blinks up at me and tilts her head at Courtney.

"Everly." She chews her lip, and I can tell she doesn't like this revelation. "Your husband would flip if he knew that Landon was involved. You shouldn't keep things like that from him. That's not fair," she adds softly.

"I didn't intend to not tell him," I answer honestly. "We just never really discussed how I got here." I glance down at my hands, and I stare at the wedding ring Eric had slipped on my finger. I can picture the serious look on his face as he placed it on my finger. "He's going to be so mad," I groan.

"You should tell him. I don't think he'll be that mad. But he should know that Landon was involved with everything that happened. I'm surprised no one said anything to him," Courtney states.

I can feel myself frown as I try to think back to before I woke up here on that terrible day. Maybe I should have known the day I woke up and everything felt wrong, but I didn't. At the time, I couldn't remember how I'd arrived in Amity, but I'd had no reason to assume I'd been brought here against my will. I didn't know anything about it until Sophia and Courtney filled me, after which I confronted Landon and insisted he tell me what he had done.

"I guess I'll tell him." I try to ignore the dread that's building in my stomach. Landon following Evelyn's orders is exactly the sort of information Eric would love to hear, but hearing that I didn't tell him sooner is going to piss him off. "I've never kept anything from him before."

My words sound miserable, and both girls nod.

"He might not be that mad," Sophia offers, but she doesn't look entirely convinced.

"Can I ask you guys something? That day that Landon brought me back here, didn't anyone else find it odd that he just walked back in with me?" I ask flatly.

"No one thought it was weird but us. You and Landon had been so close before, so it didn't seem all that crazy that you'd be back with him," Courtney counters. "But you were clearly unhappy. He thought you'd fall back into Amity easily, but he was wrong."

"Why didn't anyone say anything to me earlier? Or to Landon?" I hold her gaze and she squirms for a moment.

"We talked with Landon a few times, but once you ditched him, he was always coming and going. He wasn't here all that often, and when he was, he was awful to be around."

"He was really rude," Sophia interrupts. "He was obnoxious to everyone, and he seemed fishy. Like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing."

"He was working with the factionless, and he brought me here instead of taking me to Dauntless," I tell them. "Why is he still here? Walking around Amity like he did nothing wrong?" My words sound harsh and annoyed, and both girls look uncomfortable.

"I don't think anyone else ever realized that something suspicious had happened. Even if Johanna found his story strange, she didn't have enough evidence to do anything. And you weren't really here very long before Eric came and got you." Courtney sort of smiles and offers me another cookie.

I shake my head at her and look down at the floor. "Has Landon said anything to either of you?"

Both girls are silent for a beat too long.

"He's not happy that you went back with Eric. He said Eric brainwashed you," Sophia quietly answers. "But no one in Amity thinks that. We can tell you're happy with him."

"I am. I'm very happy with him," I announce firmly. "But I'm not very happy that Landon took me here instead of to Dauntless and no one has held him accountable for it."

The girls exchange looks between themselves before they look at me. "Are the factionless the ones he was meeting with? The ones we told you about before?" Sophia looks curious; I had all but forgotten they'd seen him with them once.

"Yes. They were about to start a war against Jeanine. He was in the middle of it."

Neither of them know what to say. It's a long time before Courtney looks at me and her face is apologetic. "I'm sorry, Everly. We were just really happy to see you. After Eric came and got you, things were quiet here. Landon hasn't done anything crazy lately. He's just been mopey and distant."

Sophia agrees. "He's annoying, but he's Landon. Do you want to talk to Johanna about him?"

I shake my head.

I don't say much else for the rest of our time together. The girls try to change the subject, picking things that are easy to talk about — their upcoming summer plans, the spring festival Johanna wants to plan, and the latest gossip about the couple who live next door to Sophia. I can't focus on any of it. My mind is racing with a thousand thoughts.

We are interrupted by a knock on the door. Courtney stands up and flings it open, and I hear her talking quietly with her mother. I glance over, and Courtney throws me a worried look.

"Everly." Her mother calls my name. "Your husband is here."

 

 

Courtney looks a little nervous to see Eric standing in her kitchen, and so does her mother. He looks tall and intimidating, and his dark stare matches his current mood. I can only assume his talk with Johanna did not go well. He smiles tightly as everyone files in behind me, but it's short-lived. By the time I approach him, he's scowling.

"I need you and your friends to come with me." He sounds authoritative, and everyone shifts their focus onto me.

"What happened?" I ask him.

Eric shifts his weight. "We need to have a quick talk with Johanna. I think your friends can help provide some insight into something that was brought to my attention. Certain matters that could be a threat to the faction's security."

I glance back at my friends; Sophia looks startled, and Courtney is standing beside her mother with wide eyes.

"What is this about?" Courtney's mother asks, and Eric's eyes flash in her direction.

"Your daughter may have witnessed something pertaining to a kidnapping. This won't take long."

I watch as Courtney nods and steps away from her mother. She reaches for Sophia's arm and the two of them share a quick look before they take a step closer to me.

"We'll go," Courtney says.

Eric doesn't say anything else; he simply leads us out the front door.

 

 

The walk to Johanna's office is silent.

I know my friends must be thinking about everything they've told me, and I have a feeling Johanna and Eric had a similar talk. Sophia and Courtney walk quickly, trying to keep up with Eric and me. When we arrive at the stables, Johanna is waiting for us, her arms wrapped around herself. She greets us warmly, and we're ushered upstairs immediately.

I soon realize I'm right.

Eric must have talked with her about my untimely return to Amity. She asks the girls a few questions, gently prodding them to talk about their interactions with Landon, both while I was training in Dauntless and after Eric came to take me home. It's not until Sophia confirms that Landon was the one to bring me back to Amity that Eric's face hardens and his jaw muscle twitches.

"He came back with you, and he told us you'd been given another chance to stay here. I think he thought you'd want to stay with him, but you made it pretty clear you didn't." Sophia is looking up at me nervously, and I force myself to smile. I can feel Eric's cold stare on me, and I try to ignore it.

"Has he left Amity since Everly's been gone?" Eric asks. He cocks an eyebrow at my friends, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It's odd to see him like this again; I've spent the past week with him lazily smiling at me while he kissed me senseless. This Eric is all business; his features are steeled into a stern expression and his posture is as rigid as ever.

Courtney nods her head. "Not as much as he used to, but he's still coming and going. No one really pays attention to him if they can help it. Since Everly left, he hasn't been a joy to be around."

Johanna stays quiet, but I can see she feels guilty. Her lips twist downwards, and she stands with her hands clasped tightly together.

"When was the last time you saw him leave here?" Eric asks Courtney.

"I don't remember. It's been a while," she tells him. She sounds hesitant. "Maybe a month ago?"

Eric exhales sharply. "You both saw him come back with Everly. And no one questioned his actions?"

"We tried," Sophia says quietly. "It was weird, but he made it sound like it was the way it was supposed to be. Everly was home and she needed a place to stay. Landon told us it was for the best that she was back."

It's all Eric needs to hear. He snaps his jaw shut angrily and stares Johanna down with a disgusted glare.

"You'll come with us," he tells her, and I know exactly where we are going.

 

 

Eric looks irate as our boots crunch along the snowy path; his features are fixed in a snarl, and his eyes are cold.

"What are we going to do with him?" I ask him, our hands intertwined. He stares down at me with an inscrutable expression, and I start to wonder if he'll ever answer me.

"We're taking him back to Dauntless. He'll be prosecuted as an accomplice to Evelyn's plans," he finally responds. "He's wanted for being an accessory to your kidnapping. Forgery. Conspiracy. Factional treason. Multiple other charges that will be brought forth once he's put on trial." Eric announces the words with dark satisfaction. This should thrill him, my ex-boyfriend being found guilty of such offenses, but he appears more infuriated than anything else.

Eric continues tersely, "Do you remember seeing him when you were with the factionless?"

"Yes, he was there. He said he would help me," I snort at the memory. "I don't really remember much of what happened the day that Evelyn injected me, I just know I woke up here the next morning. And even though it felt weird, everyone acted like I'd never left," I tell him with a shrug.

A look of unease flashes across Eric's face. It's brief, and it's soon replaced with disdain. "You didn't find that suspicious? That you couldn't remember anything and no one else seemed to think anything was wrong?" His eyes flick to the side for a moment. "We never talked about this after you returned. I was too focused on the fact that you were back where you belonged to ask you how you got here."

I'd never really given it much thought, either. "I was confused and miserable here. All I could think of was getting out of Amity. It never even occurred to me to think about how I got back in."

Eric nods, and his grip on my hand tightens as he draws me closer to him. We walk side by side, a few yards behind Johanna, until she abruptly stops and points out Landon, alone in the distance. Eric shoves his way past her, and we take the lead.

A shudder runs through me when I realize I will be face to face with him again in a matter of moments.

 

 

He smirks.

Landon's expression when he sees Eric marching towards him is a mixture of emotions — anger, frustration, hatred, regret. I can see each one flash through his eyes as we approach him. We're accompanied by Johanna, and though there is no one else with us, it's easy to see Landon has no chance of escaping.

Landon stands his ground, his feet planted firmly in the snow, and he stares at us with a look of defiance on his face. He keeps his hands in his pockets, his ease mocking us. I briefly wonder how easy it was for him to do all this; for someone who used to love me to blindly ignore the commitments I'd made. To have neglected to help me when I was at my most vulnerable, bringing me back to the one place I didn't want to be, solely for his own personal reasons.

I know Eric thinks his actions are cowardly.

They are opposites, he and Landon. While Landon had doubted every decision I'd made from the get-go, Eric had stood by me. Even when I made the wrong decisions, Eric had appreciated that they were mine to make. He'd guided me through Dauntless when I could have failed; he'd pushed me to better myself, to want the best for my life with him. Landon had never thought I'd amount to anything.

I stare at him, watching as he leers at Eric and me. It isn't until Eric speaks that he looks the least bit uncomfortable.

"You need to come with us."

 

 

The train ride is quiet save for the wind rushing past the open door.

I stand beside Eric, trying to keep my eyes ahead of me. Eric is too furious that he had never put together Landon's involvement, and I have the sinking feeling he's going to question me about my time in Amity when I don't have all the answers. I bite back the urge to tug him away from Landon, who's standing there held in place by nothing more than Eric's dark glare.

Landon shifts his weight, alternating between smirking at Eric and looking at me contemptuously. It takes everything in me to not wipe the look off his face. He'd been unfazed by Eric's announcement that he was guilty, and he'd outright ignored Johanna's presence. She had look saddened and disappointed in his actions.

I knew he didn't care. It was obvious he didn't think very highly of Dauntless or anything that had to do with it. It made me furious, the smarmy look on his face every time he glanced at me. He always thought I made a mistake by leaving Amity, but he couldn't have been more wrong.

I've accomplished more in the year I've been in Dauntless than Landon has in his whole life. I've found a sense of home, a purpose for my time, a faction in which I feel comfortable. I have Eric; the only person who has ever fully believed in me, the only one who has ever looked out for me with every fiber of his being, the only person who has loved me for who I am.

The man before me is not the same Landon I once knew. The Landon I'd left behind in Amity would never have tried to keep me away from the man who loves me, he'd never have hidden me in a faction he knew I didn't want to be in, and he'd certainly never have pledged his loyalty to a woman waging a war he didn't understand. I swallow and look over at Eric. He's still glaring at Landon, but his posture is somewhat more relaxed.

He's obviously unconcerned that Landon will come after either of us, or maybe he just knows he can easily take Landon down.

"Eric," I say his name, but I don't think he hears me. He's cocking his head at Landon, watching him carefully.

"I don't see why I'm under investigation," Landon announces, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I did nothing but look out for you, Everly."

His words are a joke. I shake my head furiously. "You didn't exactly look out for me when you dragged me to Amity instead of returning me to my home. You knew damned well where you should have taken me."

Landon frowns, his face unimpressed. "I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand. You're different now. Less Everly, and more Eric's puppet, whatever kind of wife he wanted you to be. Seems like it worked out for you, anyway."

I bristle at his words but don't respond, doing my best to ignore him. There's nothing good that will come from anything that Landon spews out of his mouth.

"Does it bother you, Eric?" Landon drawls, refusing to stop. "Does it bother you that I knew where she was, that Everly was safe right beside me, while you sat in Dauntless sulking over her death?"

I jerk my head back to him. Eric has steeled himself, his whole body primed and aimed towards Landon.

"Were you lonely? Spending your nights by yourself, all alone in the bed you used to share with Everly?" He throws Eric a pointed look, and I can feel bile rise up in my throat. Eric stiffens slightly; it's almost unnoticeable, but I can tell Landon is starting to get to him. "Thinking of all those nights you spent with her that suddenly meant nothing."

Landon pauses, and his next words are full of nothing but spite.

"It was nice having your wife back in my bed."

Eric's head snaps over to me and his eyes narrow as he searches my face for the truth. Landon crosses his arms and sneers, a look of satisfaction crossing his face. His only goal is to hurt both Eric and me. To throw one final comeuppance at Eric, to taunt him with the thought that Landon had had exactly what Eric had wanted when Eric was at his lowest moment. I reach for Eric's arm, trying to pull him towards me. I need to tell him that Landon's words are meaningless, that he shouldn't let the idiot in front of us get to him. He's playing a game, and Eric knows it.

Unfortunately for Landon, Eric is close to reaching his breaking point.

"Eric, ignore him." I yank hard on his arm, still attempting to pull him back to me. His look tells me he's having none of it, but I don't let go. "His words mean nothing."

Landon smirks at me, his expression pleased at my attention. "You really should listen to your little wife, Eric."

My grip tightens and my nails dig into Eric's sleeve. I've had enough of Landon's rude dismissal of me and everything I've done. I'm hardly just Eric's little wife, and I've had enough of people thinking they know what's best for me.

"Fuck off, Landon," I snap at him, and the smug look on his face falls away. "You had no right to do what you did. And you're a terrible person for ever going through with anything Evelyn had her hands in."

Landon shrugs, but he drops his gaze down to the floor.

"You're no better than her," I continue harshly, letting go of Eric's arm. I walk towards Landon and glare at him. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I didn't want to go back to Amity? That what she asked you to do was wrong? I'm sorry I ever trusted you."

The look on Landon's face reflects no remorse, just a bright anger that only intensifies when he moves towards me and shoves me back a step.

This entire time, Eric has been restrained. Despite Landon and his smug expressions and taunting words, Eric has kept himself calm and controlled. He's resisted beating him to a pulp, forced himself to be the bigger man.

But seeing Landon touch me triggers something in Eric, and his resolve finally crumbles.

Landon isn't done; he opens his mouth to say something else, to hurl more offensive words at us, but he doesn't get far. Eric lunges forward, and reaches for his throat, pinning Landon against the wall of the train.

The motion is brutal, full of malice and utter loathing for the man in front of him. Landon taunting Eric with the news that I'd unwittingly shared his bed was enough to push Eric to his limit. From what I was told about my absence in Dauntless, Eric had been at his darkest then. Landon is nothing more than a painful reminder of that time.

Eric's hand closes tightly around Landon's throat, and this time he aims to make his point final.

"I told you. Come at my wife again, and I'd make sure it was your last day," Eric snarls. He holds Landon in place, his fingers digging into his neck, and I watch in disbelief as Landon's eyes grow glassy. He struggles uselessly, and I realize he's having a hard time breathing.

I lunge for Eric just as the train makes a sharp turn. I lose my footing for a second, but Eric doesn't. I stumble until I can grab him, pulling at his arm as hard as I can.

"Everly, let go of me," he tells me, his voice deadly calm. He doesn't look at me; his eyes are still fixed on Landon and his rapidly reddening face.

"Eric, stop. He's not worth it. We'll take him back to Dauntless and you can deal with him there," I urge him, but he doesn't lessen his grip.

Landon fights uselessly to pry Eric's fingers off his throat. He claws at Eric's hands, but his eyes are starting to become unfocused.

The train veers sharply again, and I find myself clinging to Eric to stay balanced. The wind is rushing past the open door of the train car making it almost impossible to hear anything other than my heartbeat in my ears. Moments tick by before Eric seems to loosen his hold the slightest bit. Landon uses the opportunity to sneer at him.

"Fuck you," he rasps out.

Eric doesn't hesitate. He jerks his arm away from me, wrapping it around Landon's head and jaw, and his fingers close tightly around Landon's throat. There is a loud cracking sound as Landon's head is snapped up and to the side. Eric takes a large step sideways, dragging Landon with him to the open doorway.

"Eric!" I shout his name loudly, but not before he shoves Landon's limp body from the train.

My lips part and I stare wordlessly at Eric. He's not looking at me. He's standing like a statue, his body turned toward the open door, his shoulders held painfully high. After what seems like an eternity passes, he finally turns to me, and his steely grey eyes find mine.

I try to push the images of Landon out of my mind.

Eric takes a step towards me, his jaw tight and his breathing slow and even. The weight of his actions crashes down on me and I feel like the air has been sucked out of my lungs.

"Eric," I gasp, unable to tear my eyes off of him, "What the fuck did you do?"


	44. Revelations

"Eric," I gasp, unable to tear my eyes off of him, "What the fuck did you do?"

"My job."

His words snap through the air the same way Landon's neck had snapped to the side. Eric is looking at me indignantly, and I can't move. I'm frozen in place with my eyes wide and my stare glued to him. Mere seconds ago, I watched him kill Landon right in front of me. I had known that eventually all of Landon's shadiness would catch up with him, I just never imagined it would be at the hands of my husband.

Eric makes some sort of huffing sound and I can feel the anger coming off of him in waves.

I can tell he's still fuming over what Landon said to him; his jaw muscles flex tightly and his eyes are narrowed at me. He stares unrelentingly, and in this moment, I understand exactly why the members of Dauntless are so afraid of him.

He looks dangerous, terrifyingly furious as he stands there, raw power and brute force fully on display.

I don't believe his anger is really directed at me. He's riled up from Landon's maliciously chosen words. If Landon had wanted to get under Eric's skin, there was no better way to do it than to announce I'd spent a night beside him. Eric's possessiveness hasn't waned at all during our marriage; he has ensured that my life essentially revolves around him and his plans, and he's been able to manipulate situations so that he maintains nearly absolute control over our life together. But with one well-aimed comment, it seems that Landon effectively tore Eric's control to shreds.

"Eric... you killed him," I manage to sputter, and my voice sounds distant to my own ears. The wind is still howling as the train surges on, rapidly rushing away from Amity. "We should have questioned him back in Dauntless."

"He had it coming. He'd been warned before." Eric's words are haughty, full of the self-assurance he's always had. He suddenly looks me over carefully, as though he's never seen me before, and his expression changes to something more vicious. "Is there something wrong?"

I can't answer him.

I swallow, peering up at him, an unfamiliar nervousness working its way through me. I haven't ever felt apprehensive in his presence, not like this. "He... you didn't…" I don't get to finish my sentence. Eric stalks towards me, his eyes blazing. He widens his stance and looks down at me, his face serious and drawn.

"I'm looking out for the city. You've been trained to do the same, without hesitation." He almost barks these words, but he stops and holds my stare for a long time. There is nothing but the sound of the wind and the occasional creak coming from the train car.

"I've told you before I won't let anyone hurt you." He says these words in a calmer, more measured tone.

"I know. It's not that…" I shake my head at him, unable to say anything more. There is an unfamiliar panic rising up as my mind is flooded with questions. Will he have to report this? Could he be in trouble for taking Landon's life? Did anyone see what just happened?

"I did what needed to be done." He takes a step back from me and crosses his arms. His words hang in the air, heavy with authoritativeness.

I know that Eric is correct — I would have been expected to do the same, to act without hesitation. Had Landon been able to really attack me, I'd have definitely fought him off, just as I did with Colton. But would I have felt entitled to end Landon's life if he wasn't threatening mine? To make the snap decision that he was guilty of actions punishable by death?

The only thing for certain is that Eric does not look very pleased right now, and I have no idea what to do.

 

 

"I could come by later in the week. I know the storm threw everyone off. Maybe Friday would work better for you both?"

Daniel's words echo in my ear as I stare at Eric. He's seated on the couch, his spine rigid and his gaze locked on his tablet. I watch him type away agitatedly, completely ignoring me.

He hasn't really spoken since we returned to Dauntless a few hours ago. The remainder of our ride home had been silent. Eric didn't even look at me, despite our close proximity on the train. He'd kept his jaw clenched shut and he didn't say a single word until right before we leapt from the train. He'd held onto me, his grip firm on my arm, and he'd all but growled the word "jump" at me.

And that was it.

He'd stormed in ahead of me, marching as though he was on some mission. The guards patrolling the walkway had looked both curious and terrified at our return. I managed to smile hello at them, greeting them as I walked past, but I hurried through before they could ask what had Eric so riled up.

"Everly, would that be a better day? I can rearrange some things?" Daniel's voice jerks me back to reality. He's offering up a very considerate solution, but I don't want to put him out.

"Um..." I pause, trying to force some cheerfulness into my voice. I feel terrible calling him to reschedule a dinner that had been my own idea. I'm so happy at the progress he and Eric have made, but Eric's current mood is atrocious. I'm almost scared to have Daniel sit through a dinner with him, but I try to remind myself that Daniel has probably seen this before. "No, tomorrow is fine. Eric and I can meet you at five?"

Eric tilts his head in my direction ever so slightly.

"Sure," Daniel answers. He pauses briefly, and his tone shifts, filling with concern. "Everly, is everything alright? You sound a bit stressed."

I want to blurt out 'no'. I want to tell him that I watched his son kill my ex-boyfriend on our way home and I can't stop thinking about it. Instead, I bite my lip, grateful that Eric isn't looking at me. I'm sure my face would give away everything I'm feeling right now. "No, it's really good to be home. And we can't wait to see you," I tell him brightly, mentally slapping myself. I didn't actually answer his question, but Daniel must understand. He doesn't push the subject any further.

"Alright, dear. You and Eric have a good night, and I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Bye, Daniel." I end the call and look at the back of my husband's head. Despite the fact that he clearly heard me talking to his father, he continues to ignore me. I stand still behind him, waiting for him to turn around and acknowledge that I just made dinner plans for us, but he doesn't.

I just want him to say something — anything — to let me know that he recognizes the enormity of what he's done. Instead, he sits there stonily, huffing in annoyance and angrily typing on his tablet.

Everything about Eric, from his posture to his expression to his silence, screams 'leave me alone'.

And so I do.

 

 

I should have known he wouldn't want to talk about what happened.

He's remained quiet all night. He keeps to himself, lazily scrolling through something on his tablet while occasionally turning to catch my stare. I smile every time, hoping he'll smile back and tell me to come sit by him. I find one of my favorite books to read and sit down a few feet away from him. It's intentional; I know he wants space, but I still want to be near him.

He doesn't seem to catch on.

There's more to wanting to talk to him than just needing to know what was behind his decision to kill Landon. I'm concerned about protocol: will there be questions asked when Landon doesn't return, will there be any kind of formal inquiry into his disappearance and death, and could Eric be held accountable for having killed him? Or will they chalk it up to Landon's fate having been sealed once he stepped onto the train with Eric?

But I don't ask him anything because he doesn't give me the chance.

He frowns at his tablet several times, and continues with whatever he's working on until he starts yawning. He goes to bed before me, muttering something about a meeting in the morning. By the time I join him in bed he's fast asleep, and I'm no closer to talking to him than I was before.

 

 

Thursday comes far faster than I'd like.

I spent a lot of the night wide awake, memorizing the ceiling and the sound of Eric's heartbeat. He had fallen asleep without a problem despite the unease that lingers between us. It's unfair; every time I started to drift off, I'd picture Eric standing with his hands wrapped around Landon's throat. My eyes would fly open, leaving me stuck in a terrible limbo for hours.

Eric had barely begun to stir — and I could swear I had just closed my eyes — when I hear his alarm go off. It seems much earlier than he needs to be up, but he slides out from beneath me and I blearily shut my eyes. I can hear him in the shower and drowsily try to tune out the noise of him getting ready. Normally there's a comfort to the familiar sound of him in the morning, but today it only reminds me that he's up early because he's avoiding me. I try to keep my eyes closed, at least until I hear him stomp across the room to my side of the bed. He comes to a stop, and when I open my eyes, he's peering down at me.

"Everly." He says my name roughly, his fingers skimming my bare shoulder.

I blink up at him, still half asleep.

Eric's face is tense, his lips pressed into a tight line as he leans in to kiss me goodbye. His lips brush against mine so lightly that I could just be imagining it.

"I'll see you for dinner," he says, looking somewhere past me instead of at me.

I nod at him, my heart sinking as he walks away. The front door shuts with a loud bang, and I sigh into my pillow.

 

 

I spend the first few hours of my morning trying not to think about Landon.

It's not that I hold onto any fondness for him; he'd done nothing but spend our time together trying to make me into someone I wasn't. He'd quieted me down so many times in our relationship, even going so far as to doubt I'd survive in Dauntless. That one had hurt the worst. I might not have been Eric's ideal trainee, but at least he never gave up on me. He never once told me it would be fine if I failed, and he never gave me the option to do anything less than what would make me the best.

But it's not Landon that's bothering me, it's Eric himself.

I know Eric's position in Dauntless, and I know that Landon is not the first man to take his last breath at Eric's hand. I know, too, that Eric did what he thought was best; still, his actions were so quick that I was blindsided. One second Landon was struggling, his hands clawing at his throat, and the next second his body was tossed from the train. It has served as a stark reminder of what Eric is capable of, how powerful he is.

And then there's the fact — the terrible, rotten fact — that Landon had tried to make it seem like I'd spent all of my time in Amity in bed with him. He couldn't have chosen anything worse to say; his words had only served to infuriate Eric, resulting in Landon's ultimate demise. Thinking about it gives me a dull headache, and I slump in my chair.

"Great," I say aloud to myself. The apartment is empty except for me. We aren't expected back in Dauntless yet, and while I could go and join Four and the initiates, I've decided to stay home and rejoin them tomorrow. Eric's abrupt departure this morning wasn't unexpected; it would be foolish to think he would wake me up and want to talk about what happened. But the silence stings — it's like an ironically loud reminder of the sudden tension between us.

I spend the next few hours at our dining room table, working on a few things I've been neglecting. I have loads of training paperwork to do, plus a very intense leadership binder from Eric that needs to be finished. I've been splitting my time between training the initiate class and completing Eric's Leadership Apprentice Program, and the schedule has been grueling. I'm relieved that initiation will be wrapping up soon; focusing solely on my leadership program will allow me to make up the time I've missed.

In some ways, I'm lucky my husband is the man to whom I report. Eric has had me focus on what he deems most important, and everything else has fallen to the wayside. He's very practical and efficient when it comes to his work, and I have found it easy to follow everything he's wanted me to do.

It's just that he finds a lot of things important.

I sign off on a few pages, making sure to mark the page I'm on. I decide to get out of the apartment for a little bit and find the one person who's always willing to meet me for lunch, no matter the circumstances.

 

 

Christina is all smiles when I find her.

We walk into the cafeteria arm in arm, and I know she's absolutely dying to hear about my time in Amity. Her excitement reminds me of the time she dragged me to breakfast only to accidentally announce to everyone in line that I was minutes away from sleeping away with Eric.

Today is no different.

"Well, are you pregnant yet?" The words are out of her mouth before we even hit the lunch line. A few heads turn, and their looks are filled with curiosity. I smile at them, waiting until they return their attention to their lunches. Christina doesn't know that I talked with Eric, but I'm sure she has imagined we used our time in Amity wisely.

I smile at her, shrugging as we find the end of the line. I try to catch a glimpse of what's for lunch, and to my delight it looks mostly edible. "We talked about it. He said he wants to have a family," I tell her, and I can't help but feel some unease. I don't want this mess with Landon to affect our plans. Eventually we will have to deal with Eric killing him, but for now, I am focused solely on today and trying to feel more normal.

"Of course he does." Christina nudges me with her elbow and we take a step forward. "I can't imagine Eric finds anyone else worthy of bearing his offspring."

"Chris." I can't help but giggle at her words.

"When we heard you guys were stuck in Amity we took bets on whether you'd come back knocked up. What a romantic getaway. And you have been married forever now," she announces enthusiastically. The guy in front of us turns to look over his shoulder, and his eyes widen in recognition when they land on me. He immediately turns his head back, and I can see him trying to look like he's not listening.

"We've only been married a little over a year," I point out, and Christina shrugs. "But we definitely didn't…" I trail off, waiting until the guy in front of us steps up to select his lunch. Christina is waiting impatiently, looking like she might explode if I don't continue soon. "We didn't not try."

Christina smiles widely, and hands me a plate. "You can tell me the details while we eat. All of them."

A half hour later, Christina nearly chokes on her fruit salad when I tell her that Eric's been thinking about us being a family for longer than I'd been aware. "There were a few times when I thought he seemed awfully open to it happening. I wonder if he thought about it with anyone else?"

Christina makes a face, one that tells me she finds my statement ridiculous. "I can't imagine him thinking anything like that. When I was in his class, he hated everyone in Dauntless. I can't imagine he ever looked at any of us and thought, 'yes, I'd love to secretly marry this person and have a baby with them'."

I snicker as I stab at the salad on my plate. "He hated you? He doesn't seem to hate you now."

Christina rolls her eyes. "The short answer is 'yes'. But I survived." She pauses with her fork in the air and looks at me carefully. "He hated everyone. I don't think I was anyone special. He especially disliked anyone who dared question him. Tris was the only one in my class who stood up to him. I'm surprised he didn't lose his mind when you started hanging out with her."

I shrug at her. "He doesn't seem to mind her now. I did stand up to him once. I asked him why I couldn't have any cake," I tell her with an embarrassed grin. I'd been so tired and so ready to kill for something sugary that I'd dared to mention Four's name in front of him. "He didn't seem all that angry that I challenged him."

Christina snorts and sets her fork down. "Everly, you are the only person in Dauntless who could have ever gotten away with that unscathed." She reaches for her drink and grimaces when Peter suddenly slides into the seat beside her. "Can I help you?"

Peter smiles at her, and it's full of fake cheerfulness. "Nice to see you, too. I just thought I'd come and see how you two ladies are doing. Just making my rounds. Keeping Dauntless safe."

Christina narrows her eyes at him and motions for him to get lost. "We're great. Shouldn't you be working?"

Peter focuses his stare on me. I don't really know him or much about him, other than that he spent a good deal of time trying to convince Eric to listen to him. "Everly, so... uh... are you enjoying training the initiates? I see that you aren't with them today."

Christina sits up a little bit straighter and she looks ready to clock him. Before she can say a word, I kick her under the table. "I am. I'm not supposed to be back yet, but I'm sure Four is doing just fine. Wasn't he your instructor?" I ask him.

He nods while I take a bite of my lunch. "Then you probably know he'll be fine without me for a day."

Peter puts his palms up and smiles innocently. "I just wanted to see if you needed any help. I am always willing to do my part to support the Dauntless faction in any way I can."

"Great. Bye," Christina interrupts, and she waves him off.

"Great talking with you," Peter retorts, and he stands and leaves without another word.

"What a weirdo," I announce, watching him walk away. He awkwardly high-fives one of the lunch ladies, who gives him a dirty look when he finally saunters past her.

"He's definitely strange," Christina responds before she kicks me under the table. "Are you free after lunch? I have a few places I need to go and it's been a while since we've been shopping."

She grins, and Peter is long forgotten.

 

 

"It looks hideous." Tris's words echo in the small room.

She and I are perched on a bench together, watching Christina try on a dress for her date tonight. She and Rylan are celebrating a very small amount of time together, but she is overly excited, and so is the dress she's trying on.

"Maybe something less… bright." I try to think of the least offensive word I can, but there is nothing kinder that can describe the neon dress she's thrown on. "Maybe something darker?"

Christina turns in a circle, and eyes herself in the mirror critically. "You really don't like it?" she asks, not sounding totally convinced. "It's kind of fun."

"No," Tris announces firmly, "It's a mess. It looks like Amity and Candor threw up all over each other." She pauses and looks over at me guiltily. "Sorry, Everly. I know you like pink."

"No offense taken. I like pink, but not... uh… that bright of a shade of pink," I tell her.

"Alright, fine, I'll try something else." Christina sulks back into the fitting room, and Tris glances at her watch.

"Are you and Eric joining them tonight?" she asks.

I shake my head no, and wonder if she and Four would want to go with Christina and Rylan. I don't know if Four and Rylan socialize with each other, but the more I think about it, the more I bet they don't. Rylan and Eric seem like they are pretty close. I'd imagine there is a loyalty to Eric that Rylan wouldn't dare go against. "No, we're having dinner with Eric's dad tonight."

Tris grins. "That sounds fun. He seems like he's really nice."

"He's very nice," I agree, swinging my feet back and forth. "I like him. And I know Eric is happy he's here, even if he'll never tell him that."

Tris nods and looks at me out of the corner of her eye. "Eric isn't the best at communicating, is he?"

I bite the side of my cheek. I'm tempted to spill everything right now, to open my mouth and tell her what happened, but I don't. I turn my stare back to the door of the fitting room, and I try to think of a way to change the subject.

I'm saved when Christina appears from the fitting room, grinning at me. This dress is shorter and tighter than before, and she looks delighted with it.

"He'll love it," she announces, twirling around for us.

Beside me, Tris grimaces. "I'm sure he will. It's just very…short." She trails off and glances at her watch again. "Sorry, guys. I've gotta head to work. Maybe we can have dinner soon?" She sounds hopeful, and Christina and I both nod. I'm relieved; I don't want to spoil the happy moment by bringing up Eric's sullen mood, and I don't want to focus on Christina's sudden lack of fashion sense.

"Bye, Tris," I tell her. "We can have dinner on your next day off if you want."

She glances back at me and smiles brightly. "I'm glad you're home, Everly," she says. She lingers for a moment, as though she wants to say something more. She looks worried, but I smile up at her.

I try to look like everything's fine, but I know she can tell something's bothering me.

"Thanks, Tris," I tell her. "Me, too."

 

 

I put my bags on the counter.

I managed to find a few things for myself after Christina finally settled on a dress that would allow her to sit down without any help. It felt good to pick out some new clothes, all dark-colored with just a few lighter-colored things. Choosing Dauntless clothing feels second nature now, but I always try to find the softest, prettiest things I can.

And thanks to Eric's card, I am able to buy them without really thinking about it.

He's never said a word about anything I've ever bought. After we married, he had given me a card of my own that had his name on it. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure how I acquire points lately. I'm sure I am given some for training the initiates, but beyond that I don't know. I decide I'll ask him if he ever gets around to speaking to me again.

I glance at the binder on the table, still sitting just where I left it.

I should try to read the last few pages, but it seems impossible right now. I really just want to lie down before dinner.

I make up my mind and I walk to the bedroom, kicking off my shoes. A minute later, I flop down onto the bed and press my palms against my eyes.

I still have a few hours until our dinner with Eric's father, and I have no idea how Eric will act.

 

 

Clyde's is as noisy as ever.

Only a few people turn to stare as I thread my way through the crowd. I smile at them, recognizing a few of them as friends of Karl, and I glance around quickly. I spot Daniel fairly easily; he's dressed as though he's come straight from work, and his blue jacket stands out just as much as it always does. He waves when he sees me, and I watch his eyes land on Eric, following just behind me.

Daniel looks happy, as usual, but he watches me slide into the booth with a very intense stare. He's probably concerned since our last conversation was all over the place. I grin at him, trying to calm down the worry that's flooding through me as Eric shoves himself in beside me. He makes sure his arm touches mine, closing the space between us, and I relax slightly.

"Did the storm cause you to lose power in Erudite?" Eric's voice sounds normal, but I can tell by the way his shoulders are tensed that he's on edge. I wonder if he's concerned that I might bring up Landon in front of his father; my blurting out that Eric had disposed of my ex-boyfriend on our way home from Amity might fracture everything he's accomplished with Daniel.

"It did. Luckily, I didn't have anything too pressing scheduled. I did push back a few appointments, but nothing major." Daniel greets the same server that we've had the past few times we've been here. She's grown familiar with his ever-professional Erudite appearance, and he's grown comfortable with her ever-outlandish Dauntless appearance. She sets down the same drinks we've ordered every time, and I'm pleased that we've become familiar customers to her. It feels good to be known around Dauntless, and even better to be here with both Eric and Daniel.

"What if there had been a major emergency?" I ask him. A silence has quickly settled over the table, and while not unpleasant, today it seems noticeable. "It seemed like it snowed forever. I didn't know it could shut down the city. What would you have done if you had needed to perform surgery?"

"We have our ways. Had there been a true emergency, we would have made it work," Daniel answers.

Eric smirks and takes a long sip of his drink. "Every faction has backup generators for emergencies so they're never truly shut down, but the snow did make it impossible for the trains to run. Therefore, we had the pleasure of staying in Amity." He relaxes for a moment, slinging one arm behind me to rest against the back of the booth. He leans back as he sets his drink down. "And of course that's where we'd end up getting stuck."

"I take it you were there for longer than you wanted to be," Daniel muses, and he grins. "I'm sure you two made the most of your time away from here. You know, I went to Amity once, years ago. I accompanied Blythe out there to see a woman who was convinced her livestock were talking to her. She told us they could communicate with her and that they told her they wanted to live inside her home."

Eric looks askance at me out of the corner of his eye, and I glare back at him as sweetly as possible.

"Um… I have no idea who that would be," I inform them, feeling a rush of secondhand embarrassment. How lovely that the only time my father-in-law set foot in my old faction it would be to deal with a lunatic and her talking goats.

Daniel snickers into his drink. "I think her name was Mary. And there was nothing wrong with her, she was just very enlightened thanks to a supplement she was taking. It caused her to hallucinate."

Of course.

I shake my head and the table falls silent again. I wish Eric would say something, or that Daniel would offer something up, but they both seem lost in their own thoughts. I swirl my drink around, grateful when the girl appears to take our order.

"So, how's everything at home?" I ask once she leaves.

Daniel's smile falters a bit. He pauses with his drink in midair before he steels his face back into a pleasant expression. "Everything's fine, dear. Work is busy. But busy is good..." he trails off and shrugs his shoulders.

I nod at him, at a loss for words. I don't have anything insightful to offer, nor do I even have a response to what he said. I know he's purposely left out anything to do with Blythe, and I don't really want to bring her up, either.

Eric isn't quite as considerate. He clears his throat and his fingers brush against the top of my shoulder. "Does Blythe know you've been coming here?"

Daniel fidgets with his drink before he shakes his head. "No, she doesn't. But it's easier this way. I think you know why."

Eric shrugs. "Has she caught on that you aren't at work?"

Daniel glances at me, and I suddenly wonder how she hasn't figured out where he's been going. Traveling between the factions isn't entirely forbidden, and Daniel does have a medical clearance that grants him access to any medical facility. But I would certainly notice if Eric was suddenly spending more time at work, and Blythe seems pretty sharp.

Daniel grins. "I told her I had some research to do. I'm giving a presentation in a few weeks, so she thinks I'm focusing on that. But she's been rather busy herself. She doesn't mind the quiet time."

Eric makes a sort of unimpressed noise, and I elbow him. It speaks volumes that Daniel chooses to come here, that he's willing to risk Blythe eventually finding out. I can't imagine the fallout would be pretty.

"I'm glad you could make it," I tell him, and I'm relieved when our food arrives much faster than expected. We are all quiet while we eat; the distraction is much needed. There are so many things I want to tell Daniel; my talk with Eric, our time in Amity, the bag my mother handed me filled with some oils that he should be terrified to open. But I can't. He'll probably ask a few simple questions and I'll wind up telling him all about Eric and Landon. So instead, we make small talk: I mention finishing up my training class, and Eric offers up a few words about Evelyn. I listen carefully, noting that he's added a few more patrols to look for her around Dauntless, but nothing else beyond that.

By the time we are done eating, everyone looks more relaxed. The server clears our plates and Eric hands her his points card to cover our meal.

"I have something for you upstairs. From my mother," I tell Daniel while we wait for the server to return. I'd thought about not giving it to him simply because it could be embarrassing. My mother has great intentions, but I seriously doubt that the Head Neurosurgeon of Erudite has any need for essential oils.

But Daniel smiles widely. "I can't wait."

He stands, thanking Eric for dinner, and waits for us to follow suit. I walk ahead of Eric, and I almost jump out of my skin when his hand settles on my lower back. He guides me out of Clyde's and into the hallway without a word.

It's only then that he takes my hand, sliding his fingers between mine.

 

 

The walk back is mostly quiet. Daniel makes an offhand comment that he should be free sometime in the next few weeks, and Eric seems to be biting back something. I listen to them talk, and I wonder if I should have brought the bag with me. I didn't really want to be seen carrying the very Amity-looking bag through Dauntless. It's obvious it isn't from here, and it smells strongly of some sort of oil.

We stop while Eric unlocks the door, and I reluctantly let go of Eric's hand.

"This is awfully nice of your mother," Daniel announces. He's shoved his hands in his pockets and he looks at ease. I still remember the first time he walked to the apartment with me. I'd been afraid Blythe would pop out of nowhere, and I had been so thrown off by his presence that I'd been unable to do anything but make terrible small talk and lamely attempt to make him dinner.

I shake my head. "I don't think it's any big deal. She enjoys making this sort of stuff. You don't have to use it. I'm not really sure what she was thinking or why she felt the need to give you this."

Daniel doesn't look fazed. "I'm sure it's fine. And it's a very kind thought."

We follow Eric through the door, and both men pause near the counter. I head to the bedroom to retrieve the bag, and when I come back, I notice Daniel and Eric are talking quietly. Eric is pointing to something on his tablet and he looks unhappy. His eyebrows have knit inwards and he's frowning. Daniel shakes his head, glancing up suddenly when he realizes I'm walking towards them.

I watch his stare fall to the bag in my hands. The bottles clink as I walk, and I wonder how he'll sneak this home past Blythe.

"Here you go. I wouldn't suggest drinking any of it, even if it says you can," I advise him as I hand the gold bag to him, and he raises an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"I wouldn't dream of drinking it until I've figured out what it is," he responds. It takes everything in me not to yank the bag back from him.

My stare falls to the tablet beside him. I can see the page darkening as it times out, and I only catch sight of Evelyn's name before the screen darkens completely. Eric shoves the tablet aside, and neither of them move until Eric finally clears his throat.

"We'll see you in a few weeks. Maybe we can join you for lunch," Eric announces. He's not really looking at Daniel, but I am. Daniel's face brightens, and he nods.

"That sounds fantastic. Call me and we can pick a day," he replies.

I should be thrilled; Eric has just made an effort with his father, not only offering to meet for lunch but actually coming up with the idea himself. But all I can think about is Evelyn's name on the tablet, and just what Eric was showing his father.

 

 

Eric walks Daniel out, or as far out of Dauntless as he feels like going. It gives me a minute to open up the bag my mother made for Eric and me. I can feel the mortification rush over me as I pull out the first item.

Virility Cream.

Next, an essential oils kit for our home, including several different types of oils that I'd watched her make in her kitchen, and some sort of weird reed diffuser.

A jar of something murky that is intended for ingestion.

A small bag of herbs, freshly cut up and neatly packaged.

And some sort of calendar.

I have no idea why my mother chose to include these items. I know she probably had the best of intentions, but I can't even pretend I'd want to approach Eric while waving a tube of virility cream at him. With a heavy sigh, I shove it all under the bed, hoping Eric never has the urge to spring clean our bedroom.

 

 

Eric doesn't say much, and I try my best to let him be.

Tonight I slide into bed beside him, pushing aside the dark covers until I'm pressed up against him. He sighs, something heavy with sleep, and pulls me close until I'm tangled around him, his eyes closed the entire time.

He may not be speaking to me, but his actions tell me everything I need to know.

 

 

I stare at the date on my phone as I brush my teeth.

It's been a few days since Eric killed Landon.

I haven't exactly come to terms with Eric's actions. If I think about it hard enough, I know that part of the issue is that it caught me so off guard. I'd been told a few times about Eric's life before me. About his ruthlessness, his rough violence towards others, his aggressive nature. I'd heard quiet whispers, even from my own friends, about his time as their trainer — his disciplinary methods with them far scarier than anything I had ever experienced.

But I'd never seen any evidence of it myself.

Sure, I'd watched him scare people off; I'd watched him snap and snarl at those who dared come to close to him or me, and I'd watched him threaten those people in a spectacular fashion. I definitely knew that he carried out dark orders for Jeanine well before I ever decided to come to Dauntless. But it had all stopped when we became something more than just initiate and trainer. I'd watched him silently struggle with the decision to continue on his violent path. It had seemingly caused a rift with Jeanine, and I knew ignoring orders from her couldn't have been an easy decision.

But not everyone knows that about Eric.

Or would necessarily believe it.

So, I've kept my mouth shut since we returned to Dauntless. Eric had gotten so worked up, so emotionally agitated, that had I dared to suggest he should have handled Landon differently he would have no doubt lost it. I know his feelings on the topic of Landon; hearing about Landon's direct involvement in the very event that had cruelly torn us apart certainly doesn't make things any better. His hearing Landon brag that I'd been in his bed, in whatever context, only makes the situation desperately worse.

I'm not going to keep quiet forever, though. I've spent hours trying to come up with a way to talk with him. I simply need to find the right time to carefully bring it up with him, a moment when he isn't on edge or anticipating the conversation. But I have to do it. Just a few days ago I asked him to be the father of our child, to start a family with me, and this situation is something that can't just be ignored.

I have no reason to believe Eric would ever hurt me, and he certainly wouldn't hurt our child. I want him to know that Landon was never a threat in my mind. Eric has won out in every respect: he has me, he has his position in Dauntless, and he has a burgeoning relationship with his father. I don't want him to think there's even an ounce of truth in Landon's words.

I listen to the front door shut as Eric heads out to work, then trudge into our bedroom, staring at the mess of dark sheets.

I know Eric well now, and our relationship is stronger than this. He knows he could talk to me, and he knows he should talk to me. Instead, Eric has stayed away; he's busied himself with work, returning for a quiet dinner or asking me enough questions that I've been unable to bring up Landon. At night he silently pulls me close to him, and I fall asleep beside him before I can utter anything more than 'goodnight'.

I halfheartedly make the bed, and kick at a stray pair of boots I'd left on the floor. I need to talk to Eric, and soon. I need him to reassure me that killing Landon was more than just a knee-jerk reaction to Landon's taunting words, more than just jealous fury unleashed.

I decide I'll talk to him as soon as he's home from work.

 

 

It goes terribly.

Eric's whole face contorts into a mask of rage, his handsome features settling into a familiar snarl.

"Are you joking me?" He says the words icily, so sharply that I can almost feel them slice through the air. "What did you want me to do with him, Everly? Bring him back here to hang around Dauntless until he could be put on trial?"

I shake my head at him. I didn't given him much time to decompress after work, but I'm anxious to settle this now. I hugged him tightly the moment he walked through the doors. I told him I needed to talk to him, and I didn't even give him a chance to agree before I told him I'd never seen that side of him. And while I'd expected him to be annoyed, his reaction is far beyond that. He's pounced on the idea that something, anything, might have happened with Landon, and that I'm just mad because Eric killed him.

"No, I didn't want him hanging around Dauntless. I just didn't imagine you'd kill him." I try to keep my words very even. "I'm a little surprised, that's all. I think your reaction was a little extreme."

"A little extreme?" he repeats, and I watch him clench his jaw. "Finding out my wife was in bed with her ex-lover while I thought she was dead might make me feel a little extreme." He glares at me, holding me in place with an intense stare; his expression soon turns stone cold. "Is there something you want to tell me? Something I should be aware of?"

I try to bite down the hurt that spreads through me. I know he's angry, and he's coming from a place that I don't understand, but his words still sting.

"I wasn't in bed with Landon like that. I wasn't even aware of where I was. He took me there without me knowing," I protest, keeping my stare locked on him.

Eric doesn't look impressed. "And yet you never thought to bring it up to me?"

I try to ignore the accusation lurking in his words. "I didn't even really remember it. I had no idea why I was with him, and I left immediately. All I wanted was you." I pause, making sure his eyes are fixed on mine. "I didn't even remember you, and yet all I did was think about how to get back to you."

It's true. All I'd heard was his name, but it was enough for me to know I didn't belong in Amity. It had prompted all kinds of feelings that I couldn't explain.

"You still could have told me," he answers irritably, but he looks marginally less murderous.

"But Eric, you can't just kill anyone who so much as takes a step towards me," I answer him, trying to keep my voice calming and neutral. "Landon wouldn't have done anything."

"Bullshit," he snaps.

I straighten myself up to my full height. "Eric…"

"I need to get out of here." He scowls at me and holds up his palms. "We're done discussing this."

"Eric, no!" I protest, realizing I've lost all control over the situation. "I just… that's not the way you should have handled it."

Eric stares at me incredulously. After an uncomfortable silence, he speaks, and I know he's not about to back down. "This isn't Amity," he pauses, making sure I can hear the disdain in his voice. "This is how Dauntless deals with people like him."

I shake my head. "That's not true. That might have been how you would have handled him, but…"

I don't get the chance to finish. Eric glowers at me and his voice rises with his words. "You're wrong. If you think for one second that I'd let him anywhere near Dauntless, anywhere near you after he threatened you, then you have lost your mind. He was an asshole who tried to hurt you, and if you keep telling me he wasn't, then we're gonna have a problem. I should have killed him the first time he opened his damned mouth."

With that Eric shoves himself past me, ignoring my protests. Our apartment door shuts with a fantastic slam, and I stand there, staring after him.

Crap.

 

 

It takes me all of two minutes to realize he isn't going to come back anytime soon. Even if he did, he certainly isn't going to talk to me. I contemplate following after him. I'm sure I could catch up to him, yank him aside and try to force him to finish our conversation, but I highly doubt that he would cooperate. In fact, it would likely make him even angrier, so I elect to leave him alone for now.

I decide to go let off some of my own frustration instead. I change into the first thing I can find, a tank top and a pair of leggings, and throw my hair up into a messy ponytail. I leave our apartment without looking back and head down to the training room, knowing it should be practically deserted at this time of day. It feels a little strange to walk in here alone — I've always met up with Eric or Four, but there's something to be said for coming here by myself. I plan to work out for a while in hopes of getting out of my head. It feels too Amity to sit around and internalize every single thing that's happened, and it's much more satisfying when my fist hits the bag.

I quickly lose track of time.

It's easy to get into the same rhythm Eric and I used when I was training. I can almost imagine him behind me, goading me into punching harder while keeping proper form, and sneering when I did well enough to meet his exacting standards.

I focus on one spot on the bag, imagining it's Landon's face, or sometimes Evelyn's face, and pummel it repeatedly.

I don't realize how angry I am until I hear voices behind me and stop; Karl and his friends have wandered into the training room. They are all dressed as though they are ready to work out. I must not be the only one with this idea.

"What are you doing in here?" Karl grins a hello as he and his friends walk up next to me. They each take to the bags after offering me an equally friendly hello. They look happy and relaxed, and I vaguely recognize a few of them from his training class.

"Just practicing," I tell him, brushing my bangs out of my eyes. "I haven't really had time to work out lately, and I thought this would be a good time. I didn't think anyone would be here."

Karl shakes his head and takes the bag right next to mine. "Nah, there usually isn't. We come down here every so often. We might spar later if you want to join us."

I perk up immediately.

His offer is appealing in more ways than one.

I accept it before he can say anything else.

 

 

Karl's head hits the mat and he groans, but it's good-natured.

I am pleasantly surprised to find that I still remember everything Eric taught me. It hadn't served me so well when Colton kidnapped me, but that entire situation had been grossly unfair. But Karl is built roughly like Eric, and it's easy to fight with him, almost as though it were second nature.

"Fuck, dude. You're good." Karl shoves himself to his feet and stretches out his neck. "Eric trained you really well."

I frown at the mention of his name, but only for a moment. He hasn't come looking for me, and I'd almost forgotten why. I shake the feeling away, and focus back on our fight. Karl circles around me, and he grins when I step towards him.

"You should have gotten to fight with us. Did you ever fight anyone other than James?" he asks as he dodges my punch. I scowl, taking a step back, and prepare to hit him again. Fighting with Karl is easy; there's a friendly competition to it, even though he could probably beat me to the ground if he really tried.

"Derek. And after that, just Eric," I tell him. I'm pleased when my fist hits his ribs, and he swats me away.

"Can you take him down?" Karl asks, but it sounds slightly strained and he grimaces when I hit his side again.

"Easily," I tell Karl, raising my eyebrows at him. He looks surprised, but he nods in approval. My words are mostly true. I know how to get Eric to the ground, it just doesn't involve a whole lot of actual fighting. "But he's terrifying to fight. I'd be scared if he ever really came after me."

Karl lands a punch to my arm, and I immediately respond.

"Would you want to fight him?" I ask, trying to slow my heart rate. Sparring against someone other than Eric is fun, and the blood pumping through my veins makes me feel alive. For the first time since returning home, I feel like everything is right again.

"Maybe." Karl looks thoughtful and then he breaks out into a wide grin. "He did come after me once. I learned the hard and painful way that he can punch just as hard as I expected."

"My bet's on Everly." A voice breaks through our conversation, and I see Karl's friends have gathered around us. They are all watching carefully, and one of the taller ones shifts his weight to the side before he gives me a thumbs up. "You got this."

"Shut up, Wallace," Karl tells him, but it's cheerful. "I'm not afraid of Everly."

He eats his words a minute later when I punch him in the jaw, and he stumbles back a bit. His friends react instantly, some cheering and shrieking, others lobbing a few boos in my direction. Karl staggers and clutches his jaw, and his eyes widen. "Everly!" He says my name in surprise, and I shrug sheepishly.

"I didn't punch you that hard," I protest and Karl shakes his head. A minute later I'm knocked off my feet, my own head hitting the mat, and I groan. I wasn't expecting that, but I do deserve it.

"You suck," I tell him, laughing, and he extends his hands out to me.

"Thanks, Everly." He pulls me up and resumes his stance.

By the time we are done I've lost track of who actually won the fight, but it doesn't matter one bit.

 

 

I take a shower at home.

My shampoo sits beside Eric's. He's accidentally used it a few times, and it left his hair smelling far sweeter than one would ever imagine Eric could smell.

He hated it, of course.

Today it reminds me of him; I try hard not to focus on the sad feeling that's twisting and rising up in my chest. It makes me feel like I'm close to crying, but not quite. I don't want to be in this stupid argument with him anymore. I want us to finish this fight, to end it once and for all. I want him to realize that nothing happened with Landon — to understand that with Landon's death, a weird relief has come, as that chapter of my life closes forever.

I wish he would come home, so I pretend he'll be here by the time I'm done showering.

But he isn't.

So, I stall. I dry my hair for a long time and I try to push down the hopeless feeling that's brewing. I have no qualms about Eric wanting to keep me safe, and I have no problem with Landon being out of my life, but I want to make sure Eric isn't going to walk around ready to snap the neck of anyone who dares look in my direction.

There is a beeping sound coming from my phone, and I glance at it out of the corner of my eye. For a hopeful moment, I think it must be Eric sending me a message to tell me he'll be back soon. I frown when I realize it's Christina. I'm not exactly in the mood to listen to her gush about Rylan, nor can I imagine trying to explain my predicament to her and Tris. They'd both be horrified, and I'd have to explain why Eric and I are at odds.

I briefly wonder if I should call Daniel; I could ask him if has some sort of advice about his son. Could he maybe offer some insight into Eric's mind? I immediately decide no. Eric might feel betrayed if I ask his dad anything of the sort. Calling Daniel would sabotage any sort of progress he and Eric have made.

Besides me, there aren't a lot of people who know Eric well and understand how he thinks and acts. I'm the only one who knows the reasons why he'd kill Landon, but even so, his actions were shocking to me and I'm worried about the potential consequences. There is only one other person I can think of who is well acquainted with this side of Eric, and I don't know if he'd really want to help me figure out this little problem. Or maybe he would.

After all, he does know an awful lot about Eric's violent outbursts.

 

 

I knock on the door a few times.

Four is the very first person I met when I arrived in Dauntless. I can still remember the way he pulled me aside, worry plastered across his face as he told me I couldn't train with his class. I can also remember the look of remorse he had when he realized I was being taken to Eric. He's also the first person, other than my sulky husband, to make sure I was alright in Dauntless. He didn't question my decision to transfer here, and he didn't bat an eye when I insisted I could do it.

He opens the door after a minute and he blinks in surprise when he sees it's me. His hair is wet and flat, as though he's just taken a shower, and I hope I haven't caught him just as he's about to leave to go somewhere.

"Everly? Is everything alright?"

I nod at him, and I can feel myself chewing on my lip. "Are you going somewhere? Do you have a minute to talk?"

Four glances behind me. When he realizes there's no one with me, he ushers me inside. "I've got some time. Come on in."

I step through his doorway and glance around quickly. I've never been to Four's apartment before, and I only know how to get here because Tris had talked about it. She'd been describing how it was sort of hidden away, then openly spilled the rest of the details.

Four's apartment is quiet and sunny, and very different than Eric's. There are large windows with square window panes that line an entire wall. The opposite wall is plain white, decorated only by the words Fear God Alone. The floor plan is less traditional than Eric's: there's a small kitchen to the side and a separate bathroom, and his bed is shoved along the wall in the middle of the open living space. The bed has a blue quilt on it that looks warm, like something my mother would have made in her free time.

"Your apartment is nice," I tell him, glancing around. The apartment has a warmth to it that Eric's lacked at first. It's only now, after living with him for over a year, that our apartment feels like a home. I try to imagine what would have happened if I hadn't lived with Eric. I wonder if I would have ended up sharing an apartment with someone I barely knew, or if I would have managed to wind up by myself. I know Four lives here alone by choice, which is unusual; most members share an apartment with their friends.

Four shrugs and motions for me to follow him. We come to a stop by his desk, and I notice he's got training plans sprawled all over it. He leans back against it, gesturing for me to take a seat on his couch, and crosses his arms over his chest.

"What can I help you with?" he asks me. He's looking right at me, with the same level of seriousness he displays during training.

"Well..." I start, and he nods his head slightly. "It's Eric." I pause, trying to think of what to say. It had sounded simple in my brain, but I'm finding it much harder to actually voice the words. "We're in this… disagreement."

Four nods again and immediately looks concerned.

"When we were stuck in Amity during the storm, we talked with Johanna and a few of my friends there. I found out that my former boyfriend, Landon, was heavily involved with the factionless. He was the one Evelyn had take me out of factionless, and he brought me back to Amity instead of bringing me here."

Four's mouth tightens. "You don't remember him bringing you there?"

I shake my head no. "I remember waking up there, but Landon being in Amity wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary. I definitely didn't know he had orders to bring me there."

Four stays quiet, but he gestures for me to go on.

"Eric didn't take the news too well. He wanted Landon held accountable for his involvement," I tell him.

"He arrested him?" he asks.

"Eric intended to bring him back to Dauntless. He thought we should talk to him here. Find out what he knew about Evelyn's plans, how he was involved. But when we got him on the train, Landon started saying all this stupid stuff. He knew he would piss Eric off, and he did." I stop for a moment, remembering Landon's obnoxious words and his pointed attempt to make Eric feel like he'd been betrayed. "And... well... Eric lost it."

Four takes a moment to mull over what I'm saying. He glances down at the ground for a moment before he looks back up at me. "Let me guess, he dealt with Landon in a very Eric way."

I stare back at Four morosely, nodding and trying very hard to keep my voice steady. "I'd only heard stories about him acting like that. I've never actually seen him…"

Four finishes my thought for me. "Do something violent?"

I sigh, and Four's gaze drifts off somewhere over my shoulder. He looks thoughtful as he processes everything I've told him so far.

Four turns his gaze back to me and takes in a slow breath. "You have to know that part of Eric's job as a leader of Dauntless is to make decisions that best protect the city and its inhabitants. So did Landon give him any reason to think he might be a threat?" he asks carefully.

"Yeah. He'd been doing a lot of stuff to help Evelyn. He was more involved than I ever thought. But it wasn't until we were on the train that he came after me. Eric got between us and he had had enough of Landon."

Four looks surprised. "Landon came after you? Did he hurt you?"

I shrug. "He shoved me. I don't think he would have really hurt me, but Eric disagrees."

"What makes you think Landon wouldn't have tried to kill you? People do crazy things when they're in distress. He might have lost it the same way Eric did," Four points out.

I stop and flash back to the moment on the train when Landon turned his attention to me. Landon's lack of remorse or regret, the way he'd stared me down, his eyes cold as he'd lunged for me despite Eric being right beside me — his actions had all been a surprise to me. I guess in Landon's mind, he didn't have a whole lot left to lose. He had to have known Eric would go after him.

Four's right: there really was nothing to stop Landon from hurting me... really hurting me. It very well could have been my body that got tossed from the train.

"I never imagined he'd ever want to kill me," I tell him, feeling a sudden rush of anger. I'd never done anything to Landon that warranted his outrage, but he had obviously thought differently.

"So, Eric attacked him. I assume Landon is dead?" Four prods, and I realize I've been lost in my own thoughts for a good minute. I close my eyes for a moment and nod my head at him, not really wanting to voice the end result.

"Does he have to tell someone?" I ask tentatively.

Four shakes his head. "No. He's a Dauntless leader, and he has the authority to dispose of threats as he deems necessary. Landon was a threat to the city and to you. Eric won't be investigated for eliminating him."

"I was so shocked when he killed Landon, and he's mad that I questioned how he handled it," I admit, staring to the side of Four. "He said the same would have been expected of me, but I just don't know..."

I look over to see a serious expression on Four's face. "Everly, you two were alone with him, and Landon attacked you with the intent to harm you. Eric acted instinctively, the way any Dauntless would, including me."

While I'm relieved to hear that Eric won't be in any trouble for killing Landon, I'm still concerned. Four's support of Eric should be reassuring to me, but I haven't told him everything yet. If I do, maybe he can help me figure out if what Eric did would still be considered justified. I can't shake the feeling that Eric killed Landon for reasons that were less than professional. I look into Four's kind, patient face and know that I can safely confide in him.

"There's something else, Four. Before he came after me, Landon told Eric I was in his bed with him in Amity. But it wasn't like that. Not at all. He said it because he wanted to get under Eric's skin."

Four seems uncomfortable as he absorbs what I've said."Honestly, I think anyone would be pissed to hear their wife was in bed with another man, Everly. And I'm sure Eric would have wanted to hurt him for that comment alone. But you said Landon didn't touch you until after he said that to Eric, right?" I nod at him.

"And Eric didn't attack Landon until after Landon shoved you?"

"Yeah. Eric was livid when Landon said that. I was upset and yelling at Landon, and then Landon shoved me. That's when Eric grabbed him by the throat."

Four nods and visibly relaxes. "It seems to me that Eric did his best not to let Landon provoke him, but his going after you was the tipping point. Look at his track record: Landon helped Evelyn, he deliberately kept you from your husband, and he had the nerve to attack you right in front of Eric. Landon was certainly no innocent victim. He didn't care who he hurt, and I think Eric had good reason to terminate him when he came after you."

Relief floods through me as I realize that Four is absolutely right. Eric may have despised Landon, and he may have taken personal satisfaction in killing him, but he had refrained from engaging with him physically until Landon stepped over the line and attacked me right in front of him.

Four jerks his head to the side at the sound of his phone beeping.

"Give me a minute," he tells me as he reaches for the phone on his desk. I watch him squint at the message before he smiles and quickly taps out a response. After a minute, he looks up at me and grins. "Sorry, I told Tris I'd meet her after her shift."

"No, no, I'm sorry. I showed up unannounced. Am I keeping you?" I ask him, feeling slightly rude. I know Tris's schedule has been all over the place lately. She's been filling in on some shifts she doesn't normally work, and it means I haven't seen her all that much lately due to the odd hours.

Four shakes his head no. "You're fine. I'm not due to leave for a little while yet. Tris said she'll be heading home first after work." He pauses, and then flashes a grin at me. "Besides, I've been meaning to thank you for your help. I know you talked with her."

"I did. I just really wanted to help. You're both my friends," I tell him, perking up slightly. I'd been more than willing to talk with Tris. Before this Landon fiasco, Eric and I had been in just one fight, and I knew how crappy it felt to be at odds with someone you cared about.

"There's something I should tell you," Four announces, the tips of his ears blushing red. He clears his throat and leans back against the desk. "I did a lot of thinking after you and I talked. And… I... uh... well, I proposed to Tris yesterday. And she said yes." He's looking at me, a stupidly happy grin crossing his face. I stand up and step towards him without thinking.

"Four!" I exclaim, and throw my arms around him impulsively. "That's wonderful!"

"Thanks, Everly." Four hugs me back awkwardly, more out of forced politeness than anything else. I let go of him quickly, remembering that Four is a former Abnegation and uncomfortable with being touched. But I can't help it. I'm so excited for my friends. I immediately start wondering how they'll celebrate. Knowing Tris, she'll want something small, and knowing Four, he'll want something quiet. I can only hope Eric won't stomp all over my excitement about their engagement.

Four's smile fades as his phone rings, this time loudly and repeatedly, until he answers it. I hear the person on the other end yelling angrily for a few minutes without giving Four a chance to get a word in edgewise.

"You need to click out of it then. It could freeze if you've opened too many windows. What section are you looking at?" Four speaks calmly, ignoring the frantic tone of the caller. I listen to him talk as he walks past me, and I decide to sit back down on the couch while I wait for him to finish his call. I pull my feet up to the side of me and lean back against the pillow.

Now that I'm relaxed, it seems that my workout has finally caught up with me. I feel suddenly drained and exhausted, and I let my eyes close for a second. Four seems to be rummaging for something in a drawer, but it sounds far away.

I can barely hear Four talking now. His couch is comfortable, unlike Eric's. I still swear no one ever sat on it before I came along. I promise myself I'll get up as soon as Four comes back. I shouldn't take up any more of his time; he's helped me the best he can, and everything he's told me has only shown me that Eric knows what he's doing.

My thoughts start drifting off, and the next thing I know I'm jerking awake.

I open my eyes, blinking a few times before I realize that Eric is standing in front of the couch, looming over me. His eyes are fixed down on me and his arms are crossed over his chest. It takes me a moment to realize I'm still in Four's apartment, and that up until a second ago, I was fast asleep on his couch. I glance up at Eric again, hoping he's just a figment of my leftover dream.

No such luck.

"Are you about done here, Amity?" Eric asks darkly.

He looks unamused; his eyes are narrowed and he's scowling.

"Hi, Eric," I mumble, trying to force myself to wake up. I scramble up from the couch as fast as possible, and smile up at him like this situation is nothing unusual. "I... uh… fell asleep."

"I see that," he answers, his eyes not leaving mine. I brush my hair out my eyes, trying to collect myself. Eric is dressed as sharply as ever, and he looks like he's come straight from a day at the office. "The Stiff called and said you were here." He doesn't look pleased about that, either, and I find myself chewing my lip.

"Oh." I glance back around the apartment, looking for Four. He appears out of nowhere with a look of concern on his face. He watches Eric carefully, and I can tell he's making sure Eric isn't too furious. It reminds me of my time during training: every time I saw Four, he seemed to be checking for evidence that something terrible was happening to me.

"I tried, but you didn't seem to want to wake up. I figured you'd want to go home," Four says apologetically, scratching the back of his neck and looking uncomfortable. I imagine that having Eric in his apartment must be incredibly weird for him. Eric looks out of place here — too large and too angry to be standing in Four's placid living room. Neither of them looks at the other; instead, they both look at me. After a moment of awkward silence, Eric finally speaks.

"Come on, Amity. Dinner's waiting." He reaches for my hand, and I slide my fingers between his. He's clearly still irritated, and Four's phone call can't have helped. I can't pinpoint what he's most annoyed about, though: our disagreement over Landon, Landon's taunting words, or the fact that I went to see Four and fell asleep.

I wonder exactly what Four told him. I look over at Four, who's standing to the side with a sense of unease about him. He probably wants us out of his personal space as fast as possible.

"Sorry, Four," I tell him, remembering where he's supposed to be going. I perk up slightly. "Tell Tris I'll see her soon. I hope you guys have a fun night."

Four smiles a little before glancing quickly over at Eric. But Eric isn't paying any attention to him; he's watching me and impatiently waiting for me to follow him to the door.

"Thanks, Everly." Four trails behind us, pausing when Eric comes to a halt in the doorway. Eric turns and looks towards Four reluctantly, like he's about to force himself to do something he doesn't really want to do.

"Thanks," Eric says shortly. It takes me a moment to realize he's speaking to Four. I blink up at Eric, then turn my head to observe Four's reaction. Four looks surprised, but gives a brief nod of acknowledgement back at Eric.

I would bet everything I own that this is the first time Eric has ever thanked Four for anything.

I give a quick wave goodbye to Four as Eric and I exit wordlessly, the heavy door slamming loudly as Eric closes it behind us. I glance up at Eric and catch sight of his expression. He looks frustrated, and I squeeze his hand.

"Four, of all people," he gripes after a moment. "Why on Earth would you go to see Four?"

I take a step closer to him and squeeze his hand again. "He's my friend, Eric. Just like Tris and Christina," I tell him firmly. This week is starting to wear on me, but I refuse to back down on this. Four is one of the only people in Dauntless that I would trust almost as much as Eric.

Eric glances at me at out of the corner of his eye. He looks unimpressed with my taste in friends, but I suspect he's just unhappy that I wasn't at home with him. He seems to be mulling something over, because he's quiet until we reach the elevator.

"Okay." He shrugs, his voice indifferent. I look up at him in surprise.

"Okay?" I repeat and he nods.

"But no more sleepovers, Amity," he declares, and I nod my head in reply. I feel like I've won some very small battle here; he doesn't have to love Four, but maybe he can tolerate him slightly more than normal.

"Eric…" I start, but he shakes his head.

"Later," he answers, his tone flat. He's smart; he knows I'm about to try to get him to talk, and he's deflecting it as long as possible. "Dinner's ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> I know there will be several opinions how what everyone thinks Everly and Eric's reactions should be. This chapter deals with their individual responses in the manner I would believe to be truest to their characters.
> 
> Eric would not believe he's done anything that anyone would possibly think to be wrong, and Everly would be thrown off since she's only heard of Eric acting like this. She'd also be very smart to give him some space knowing he'd be very reluctant to talk with her since he's just heard some very interesting information.
> 
> Thanks again for reading! :)


	45. Resolutions

It turns out Eric will talk, just not about anything I want him to.

"I was in the middle of making dinner when the Stiff called. Said my wife had fallen asleep on his couch." Eric raises his pierced eyebrow at me. "Perhaps you really do have narcolepsy, because I can't imagine anyone wanting to sleep over at Four's."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just haven't been sleeping very well this week." I rub at my eyes again, trying to wake myself up. My nap did little to ease the exhaustion, and instead left me groggy and wishing Eric might actually just be quiet.

He softens slightly at my words. His shoulders relax a bit, and the stern look in his eyes changes to something that I dare think might be guilt. It only lasts a fleeting moment, and he motions for me to continue eating.

I had thought there might be nothing worse than an Eric who wouldn't talk. But now I'd happily take silence, because he's still in the worst mood I've ever seen. We'd walked back to the apartment wordlessly. He'd ushered me through the door and stormed off to grab my dinner. I wanted to tell him it wasn't really necessary: I could do it myself, and I wasn't especially hungry.

But he'd done it anyway. Then he'd sat down in the chair beside me, and sat there until I glanced up at him.

"This is weird," I tell Eric, taking a bite of my dinner. He glances down at me, quirking his eyebrow.

"That you decided to sleep at Four's? Yeah, that is weird," he answers shortly, and I realize he isn't going to let this go easily. "I don't understand how he got you to go there in the first place."

"That's not what I meant," I tell him, sounding a bit cranky. I'm starting to wish I hadn't fallen asleep. I don't feel any better; in fact, I feel more tired than ever. "And it was my idea to go over there, not his."

Eric shrugs and rolls his eyes. "You sound awfully irritable for someone that took a nap."

I glare at him for a moment, and he chooses to ignore it. The room is suddenly silent except for the clanking of my fork and the occasional huff from Eric. He sits beside me with his arms folded across his chest.

Falling asleep at Four's hadn't been a brilliant move on my part, but had I fallen asleep anywhere else Eric might have lost his shit all over again. At least Four had been kind enough to call him, and in a strange moment, Eric had managed to seem unenthusiastically grateful to Four.

But now he looks at me, his head tilted to the side, and he grimaces in my direction.

"Eric, we should talk about Landon now." I drag my fork through the noodles on my plate. I figure I have nothing left to lose. He's already barely speaking to me, and eventually he has to cave in. "I just think…"

"No," he snaps, and pushes his chair back with much more force than necessary. "I don't want to hear about you and Landon." He says the words nastily, and I'm suddenly made acutely aware that he thinks something happened between Landon and me. "I don't want to discuss your time in Amity with him."

My face drops. "It wasn't like that."

He shrugs again and looks to the side of me.

"Eric, you can't just be angry at me for something I didn't do and then not give me a chance to explain. Are you planning to be mad at me forever?" I stare at him, wondering if that's possible. I doubt Eric has ever forgiven anyone in his life, and I'm starting to wonder if I'll be the first.

"Maybe." He barks his answer before he stands abruptly. He's done talking now, and he stares for a moment before turning to walk towards the bedroom. I watch him trying to escape, and I have the urge to hurl the plate of pasta at his head.

"You're being really unfair," I tell his retreating form, and he pauses mid-stomp.

He turns back to look at me and he narrows his eyes. "Oh, I'm being unfair. I don't remember keeping information from you," he informs me icily.

I set my fork down and it makes a loud clank on the plate. "Oh, now that's funny." I look at him like he's lost his mind. "I must have forgotten about the day I signed myself up to be in your leadership program. Or the day you proposed."

He grows visibly agitated at my words. "Enough," he snaps.

"You didn't even tell me we were married. You just let me find out!" I remind him loudly, starting to get worked up. Until this point, I'd handled what I was feeling pretty well. I was very well versed in Eric, and I knew I was probably the only person in Dauntless who understood him and why he was acting like this. But he was being ridiculous if he thought he hadn't kept things from me. I knew he'd had good reason, at least in his mind, and I had been okay with it. But I hadn't kept anything from him on purpose.

His eyes bore into me. "I certainly didn't hear you complaining the night you found out."

I can feel the color rising to my cheeks; it's irritating that even after being married to him for a year, he can still make me blush just by reminding me of being in bed with him. "That's not what we are talking about right now. Eric can you just listen to me? Then we can end this and go to bed." I look up at him and smile, hoping he'll agree.

But he doesn't.

He throws me a weird look before he storms off into our bedroom.

 

I finish my dinner alone.

I have half a mind to go after Eric, but I know it wouldn't do any good. He wants to be alone, and I'm going to let him be. It's become quite obvious that while I can usually get him to open up, this is not a subject he wants to talk about. I am only making things worse right now, and the best thing to do is let it go for a few more days.

I stab aimlessly at the noodles on my plate. There is an ache in my chest that is starting to hurt and I know it's because he's mad at me. I blink hard, realizing just how miserable I feel. Eric is the most important person in my life, and I just want him back to acting like the Eric that I know. I don't even care that he went after Landon, or that he would kill to keep me safe. I just want him back at the table, scowling and sulking while I eat. I want him back beside me, making sure that I'm alright. But it won't happen until he's ready, and there's not much I can do about it.

I put my plate in the sink and wash it mindlessly. I wish he'd come back out here, but I know he won't. With a sigh, I decide there's nothing left for me to do tonight except go to bed and hope that tomorrow is better.

 

Eric is sound asleep by the time I crawl into bed.

I made sure to take my time getting ready. I washed my face, accidentally used his toothbrush, and stared at myself in the mirror for a long time. I am beyond frustrated now. I want Eric to listen to me, and I don't know how to get him to do it. Normally I'd crawl onto his lap, slip my hands into his hair, and tilt his head up at me. He'd smirk and I'd smile and it wouldn't be long before neither of us was actually talking.

But this is different.

He's angry, really angry, and I don't know how to fix it. This is the Eric that everyone in Dauntless knows: the intensely stubborn Eric that sends people running.

I slip beneath the covers quietly, not wanting to wake him up. The sheets are cool, and I want to curl myself into him. For the first time since we started sharing his bed, he's sleeping on his side, facing the opposite way. I try to ignore the fact that it hurts more than I want to admit, so instead I close my eyes and wait for sleep to come.

 

I wake up when Eric's alarm goes off.

For one blissful, sleepy moment, Eric is wrapped around me. One heavy leg is draped over mine, and his arm is slung around my waist. His cheek is pressed against my hair, and I relish in the feeling of him like this.

When I open my eyes, it's too late.

He's already untangled himself from me and all I'm left with are the dark sheets.

 

I drink my coffee in the hope that it not only wakes me up but that it'll also provide some sort of magic clarity to this day. I'm getting desperate, almost desperate enough to drink whatever my mother had concocted for me in hopes of perking myself up.

Okay, maybe not that desperate.

I finish my coffee and head out to meet Four. Today is a huge day for the training class. Not only are they scheduled to go through their final fear landscapes in front of Dauntless leadership, but we will also post the final rankings, which will be followed by a celebration. I feel a bit guilty when I think about the rankings; I haven't spent as much time as I should have working on them. I glanced at them yesterday, but the numbers merely swam before my eyes. It was a little disheartening to me that only ten of them would stay, and it was easier to put it off until a later time.

I hurry to finish getting ready and throw the papers into some sort of order. There are pages and pages of scores written in Four's sloppy handwriting. There are my own notes, and I rifle through those to put them on top. I glance down at them, noticing that Eric added a few of his own notes on them. Words like Unacceptable, Too Bad, and NO are written in Eric's very neat handwriting. The sight of them makes me smile. I'd caught him rifling through the papers before we left for the field trip, and now I know why he'd been smirking when he was done with them.

It doesn't take me long to get to the fear landscape room, where I find Four standing beside Max. They are talking quietly as the class mills around in the distance. A few of the other leaders are scattered throughout the room as well. There's a spark of nervousness in the air, and I can remember standing with Eric on the day I did mine. I'd been nervous, but having Eric with me had been almost calming. Like I knew I couldn't do poorly so long as he was with me. It turned out that the worst part of the whole thing had been Eric's appearance in my landscape.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," I greet them, and Max nods his hello. I'm not more than a few minutes late, but I'd gotten distracted looking at what Eric had written on the papers.

"Morning, Everly. We're just waiting for Lauren's class to arrive," Max greets me, glancing down at the papers in his hands. Four nods. Max will only stay to watch part of the testing. He emailed both Four and me to let us know he'd be here for the morning hours only, and then he'd be in meetings for the remainder of the afternoon. It's unusual, but he didn't offer up much of an explanation.

"She should be here soon." Four glances at his watch and then at me. "Eric almost here?"

My heart skips a beat. I completely forgot that he'd be down here to watch. "I... uh… he…"

"You should have started six minutes ago." The voice sounds bored, and it echoes across the large room. Eric has appeared out of nowhere, and he looks uninterested. "I don't have all day." He stares at Four pointedly, as though Four has personally held up the testing.

"We were just about to start," Four tells him, not bothering to pay any attention to Eric's impatience. "We just have a few announcements to make and then we'll begin. You can stand over there." He points to the side of Max, and Eric raises an eyebrow in response. To his credit, he doesn't say anything to Four, but once Four steps away he glares at him.

"Good morning, Eric." I smile at him, noting the way he huffs in response. Four has walked over to talk to our class, and Max is busy talking with Lauren, whose class has just arrived. She looks nosy as usual; she's watching Eric and me, her eyes trained on the back of Eric's head. "Are you excited to see the landscapes?"

Eric glances around the room casually, taking in the initiates. "No. Not really," he answers, his voice unimpressed.

"Eric." I say his name lowly, and he shakes his head.

"I don't think during your class's final fear landscapes is the time or place to discuss the sort of things you want to talk about. Shouldn't you be focused on your initiates?" He says the words quietly, so no one can hear them but me.

"Yes. Thank you for your notes, by the way," I tell him, not wanting him to leave. I know he's about to go join Max and the other leaders, but I want him to stay a moment longer. He smirks, and from a distance it probably looks like he's just talking with me, telling me something important.

"You'd better go join Four." He pauses for a moment and looks right at me. "I look forward to seeing your class. I know how hard you've worked." He says the words seriously, not breaking my stare.

"Thank you. I can't wait to see you later," I tell him, and he narrows his eyes. "Enjoy." I smile sweetly. I can still feel Lauren's stare on us, and I wish she would just go walk to the chasm for a moment so I can pull Eric aside. But I can't. Four has just announced we're about to get started, and there's clearly no time now. Eric saunters away, his demeanor as indifferent as ever.

I walk over to Four and he smiles when he sees me. "You ready to see how they do?"

I nod, glancing back at Eric. He and Max are talking, and he occasionally catches my eye. There is a quiet buzz around them as the initiates start to talk amongst themselves. This part of the training is exciting in a way. While terrifying to experience, it will show us who is truly cut out to be a member of Dauntless.

"Whenever you are," I tell him.

I glance at Eric one more time. He and I match again; we've both worn dark jackets, and he looks as intense as he did the day I did my final landscape. He's standing there with his arms across his chest and his eyes trained on me. Lauren finally joins Four and me; she looks at me longer than necessary, as though she's searching for something.

"Who's up first?" she asks, not bothering to greet either of us.

Four smirks, and calls out the first name. "Morgan."

The crowd of initiates parts slightly. Morgan smiles brightly and her friends give her a few final words of encouragement. She walks up beside Four and hops onto the chair. She doesn't appear nervous until she sits down. She looks at me with wide eyes and fidgets for a second while Four messes around with the computer.

"You'll be fine," I tell her as he walks back to her. "I went first in my class."

Four smothers a smile and motions for Morgan to move her hair. He gives her a second to steady herself before he injects her. Her eyes flutter after a moment and then shut. Four turns to me, and snorts. "Did you forget to tell her you were the only one in your class?"

 

Eric doesn't really speak to me during the landscapes.

Not that he has a reason to.

He hangs back with Max and the other leaders, and he stands there looking intimidating. Some of the initiates watch him, their eyes nervously darting back and forth between him and whoever is currently going through their landscape. They know who he is, and they know he has a vested interest in how they do, and it only seems to add to their nervousness.

The morning passes quickly, so quickly that I eventually forget he's standing there.

By the time we are ready to break for lunch, Eric and Max have gone. I look around quickly and disappointment washes over me when I realize Eric will probably attend the same meeting as Max. I had been hoping to catch Eric for a moment when we took a break.

"One hour, guys. Those of you who are done, you don't need to return," Four informs them, and his words echo across the room. The initiates charge out the door, headed to the dining hall. Four looks over at me and frowns, realizing I'm still standing there. "You and Eric aren't eating lunch together?"

I shake my head. "I think he went to the meeting with Max." I sound rather down, and I try to shake it off. "I'll just grab something in the dining hall."

Four tries to look unconcerned, but he doesn't do a very good job of it. "I'll go with you." He pauses, and a serious look dawns on his face. "You alright, Everly? I mean, is everything okay with…" He trails off, but I know what he's asking. I just wish I had a better answer.

I smile at him, hoping it looks real enough for him to believe. "I'm fine."

Four doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't ask any more questions. "Alright. I guess we should go try to find something to eat before we have to be back here."

 

I stop by Eric's office after a quick lunch.

Four didn't seemed surprised when I said I'd meet him in the fear landscape room. I'm sure he knew I was going to try to find Eric, but he didn't say anything. I don't have a ton of time before we are due to start the remaining landscapes, but I just want a few minutes to talk with Eric.

I try to ignore Linda's pressing stare as I walk by her. I have little doubt that Eric has been in nothing short of a foul mood lately, and Linda has probably watched him march through the office hallways for the past few days scowling at everyone in sight.

I stop in front of his office, my eyes lingering on the nameplate next to it. I knock a few times, but there is no answer. I finally attempt to open the door myself, and I'm unsurprised to find it's locked. After a moment of internal debate I swipe the keycard I have, wondering if it grants me access to his office.

It makes me feel all the worse when it does.

The door unlocks to reveal an empty office, and it's clear he's eaten his lunch elsewhere.

 

 

The names of all the initiates seem endless.

Lauren hands me page after page of scores from each of the Dauntless-born initiates. Some of the names are more familiar than others. I'd only helped during their simulations, and this year they seemed surprisingly weak compared to Four's class.

She leans back in her seat, and she watches carefully while I add up the scores from the earlier stages of training and add them to the fear landscape scores. This part isn't particularly thrilling, but it's necessary and somewhat soothingly methodic. It's a nice change from watching the initiates face their worst fears, one after the other.

I'd been happy to head out of the fear landscape room. After being in there for an entire day, it had started to feel claustrophobic. I was relieved when the last initiate completed their landscape, but that relief ended as soon as we started the final paperwork. I frown at the papers in front of me, and I realize we will soon be sending some of these initiates to be factionless.

I try to ignore the unpleasant feeling it brings up. There are some initiates that, even though they have made it this far, are clearly not cut out to be members of Dauntless. Despite Four's intense training of them, they've had a hard time during parts of it, and it was obvious to us that they wouldn't make it here. Sending them out to live amongst the factionless seems cruel, but there's nothing I can do about it now.

"I got 89 for Joey? That seems sort of low for him." I glance at Four.

His head is bent over the table, and he's scrawling on the papers in front of him. With three of us, this part is going fairly fast. Lauren doesn't seem as uptight as usual, but she's keeping a careful eye on every finished packet. She glances at the paper Four's working on and nods at me.

"I did, too. It's lower than I would have expected," Four answers, and he looks up. "92 for Peyton."

Lauren frowns. "Are you sure? I thought she scored higher than that. She was fourth in the rankings before. Let me see that."

She takes Peyton's score sheets from him and flips through the pages. Four and I sit in silence, occasionally glancing at each other while she reads through the papers. After what seems like forever, she sets them back down with a huff.

"I forgot she was terrible at rifle training."

Four nods. "She lost the majority of her points there. Did she ever improve?"

"Of course she did. Not until the end, though," Lauren answers.

"Alright, then. We just need to put these in order before we give them to Max," Four announces.

I nod and staple the pages I've finished together. "Do either of you think that maybe we should keep more than just the top ten? There have to be jobs available that don't get filled."

"Yes, but it's not my decision. It's how it's been... for a while now," Four answers cautiously, shaking his head. "There are positions they could fill. There are lots of lower level jobs they could hold, but it's something that would have to be brought up at one of your meetings. Only the leaders would have any real say in how many members we accept."

"I could bring it up," I tell him, neatly stacking up the papers. "There's a meeting fairly soon. Maybe we could vote on it."

"You're just going to bring it up at the next meeting? Just like that, huh?" Lauren asks, and she sounds skeptical.

"Why not?" I ask her, trying not to look annoyed.

Four gives me a pointed look. "It may be difficult to get Eric and everyone else to agree with it. He's always had very clear ideas about who belongs in Dauntless," he responds diplomatically.

"Tell me about it," I laugh and slide the papers over to Four. "I'm done with these."

"Good." Four adds the papers to his own pile. He quickly places them in order, and I try not to watch. While I'm not overly attached to the initiates, I don't really want to watch him decide someone's future so easily. He stops after a second and gives a small smile to Lauren and me.

"I think we're ready."

 

Eric gives the speech to welcome the newest initiates.

He is striking as he stands there, his stance wide and his eyes only slightly disinterested as they rake over the crowd. At some point he's had his hair cut again, and his uniform looks darker than ever. He looks every ounce the Dauntless leader.

Below him, everyone has gathered in the dining hall to start the celebration, though most of Dauntless started celebrating earlier. I push my way through the throngs in search of Four, but it's much more crowded than I anticipated. I mentally curse as I shove someone out of my way. I should have met up with Four earlier, but I'd run home hoping to find Eric there.

Maybe I should have known he was with Max, but I guess it makes sense that I wouldn't. I didn't attend the celebration when I made it through initiation, and I'd completely forgotten that the leaders are always present to welcome the newest members. Eric and Max glance out at the faction for a second before Eric leans in to talk with him.

They are both smiling as the initiates head towards the front. Even Eric can appreciate the fact that we have new members, and I wonder if he's planning on staying for the celebration afterward. Max clears his throat and everyone quiets down to a dull roar as I finally find Four; he frowns when I shake my head in annoyance.

"Sorry. I went to find Eric and I didn't think the whole faction would be here already." A large man bumps into me, nearly pushing me into Four. "It's way too crowded in here."

Four nods in agreement and motions for me to follow him off to the side. He leads me to a less crowded area, and I feel relieved when we are free from the oppressive crowd.

"I already gave them the paperwork. I didn't know you were looking for him." Four is apologetic and I shrug it off.

"I was looking for him at home. It's no big deal," I tell him. It really isn't. Finding Eric at our apartment honestly wouldn't have given me enough time to do anything; I'd simply wanted to find out if he was sticking around for the ceremony or if he was heading home.

There is a loud whistle, and everyone is suddenly silent. They look up to where Eric and Max are standing. I watch as Tori and Harrison join them; Four elbows me as gently as possible.

"Shouldn't you be up there with them?" he asks me, and I shake my head no.

It would feel strange for me to stand beside them while they welcome the newest initiates. I'm far more comfortable standing beside Four. "I'm not a leader yet. But I did help train this class," I remind him jokingly. He grins and visibly relaxes.

"Good. It's a pain in the ass to get up there if you needed to be there in the next few minutes," he announces.

"Alright, everybody listen up." Eric's voice interrupts our conversation, and I try to see him over the sea of tall heads in the crowd. "We'll keep this short. We have a new pack of initiates this year, and a smaller pack of new members. We offer them our congratulations."

There is a roar throughout the dining hall as soon as he says the word "congratulations." Those that are sitting down at the tables bang their fists loudly, and Eric lets them continue for a moment before he quiets them back down. "Tomorrow they'll choose their positions in Dauntless. As you all know, the positions are chosen in order of the rankings, determined by a combination of all their scores throughout training."

Eric pauses while his eyes land on the crowd below him. "The three stages have been carefully ranked by Four, Everly and Lauren. Congratulations to those who have made it."

As soon as he says the last word, the screen behind him lights up.

The names then flash on the board one by one.

I watch carefully, my head craned upward as the names light up to reveal who the newest members are. I find myself holding my breath the way some of them must be. I never experienced this when I completed my own training. Eric and I had been gone for this reveal and I didn't even get to see that I was ranked first.

All around me the noise seems to grow louder, and I can feel their exhilaration as if it's my own.

The last name flashes, bright and clear, and there are shrieks of joy along with some strangled gasps of despair. The roar of Dauntless is at its loudest now as the faction welcomes its newest members. It's easy to feel their elation; they've just proven their worth through an intense training course and now they are readily welcomed.

There's a rush of pride that runs through me, knowing I helped train them.

It's almost enough to make me forget that Eric is suddenly gone, and I doubt he'll be waiting for me at home.

 

 

The party is loud.

I wince as someone, somewhere, turns the music up even louder. I can only guess that Rylan or Jason is in charge of it, and my suspicion is confirmed when Jason nearly crashes into me. He steadies himself against me, bracing one hand on my shoulder and managing not to spill his glass of whatever he's drinking all over either of us.

"Do you think it's loud enough?" he shouts, and he's grinning from ear to ear. I can barely make out his words and he's right in front of me.

"I can't hear you," I yell back, and he leans in.

"I can't hear you, Everly." He gestures for me to follow him, and I eagerly head out of the Pit. The relief from the noise is the best thing I've felt all day. He comes to a halt far enough away that the music has dulled considerably.

"I asked if you think it's loud enough." Jason looks seriously concerned and I must be making a face because he sighs. "It seemed really quiet in there."

"It's loud enough," I reassure him dryly, and I glance towards the hallway. I have half a mind to slip out of here before I go deaf. Dauntless seems to prefer to celebrate in the loudest ways possible. I smile politely as a few members stagger past Jason and me; they raise their glasses at us and slur a hello. "How long are you staying? I think I'm gonna head home."

Jason gives me a dirty look. "Everly, why are you and Eric total buzzkills today?"

I look up at him in surprise. "You saw Eric? Where is he?"

Jason looks at me like I'm crazy. "He said he had work to do. I was kinda surprised you were hanging around here by yourself. I know Eric doesn't really enjoy when you two aren't together every single moment of the day."

"He didn't tell me he was going back to work." I scowl at him. "And I'm not a buzzkill. I don't need to get wasted to have a good time. And I can't hear anything in there anyway."

Jason holds his hands up at me and shakes his head. "You two are both buzzkills. He's all pissed off and you're ready for bed. But, it's cool. Are you going back in there? I think Lauren was looking for you."

I glance back at the Pit, and I want to shake my head no, but I nod. I should go back, but I don't think it's expected that I should spend my whole night there.

"Why is Lauren looking for me?" I ask him curiously. Lauren and I don't exactly have the greatest working relationship, and I can't fathom what she could want from me.

"She had a question about the rankings," he answers and shrugs. "She's always uptight about how many of her initiates make it through."

"Great. She couldn't have brought it up when we were working on them?" It's a rhetorical question, but I'm irritated and I really don't want to go back to the Pit.

Jason shrugs. "I'll walk you back," he cheerily informs me, and I find myself following after him. I wonder what work Eric went off to do, and if that's really where he went.

It's not until we're almost at the Pit that Jason stops and tilts his head, listening to the blare of the music. "Okay, maybe it's a little loud," he decides, and I try hard not to roll my eyes. I catch sight of Lauren walking with Harrison, but I'm saved when Tris and Christina turn the corner and rush over to me.

 

Both of my friends hug me tightly.

Tris takes a second to let go, and she looks concerned when she finally does. Her worried stare is enough to tell me that she knows everything isn't great at the moment, but she keeps quiet. Jason says a quick goodbye, rushing off to do something with the music before I can say anything else to him.

"We've been looking for you. Come with us," Christina announces, and she reaches for my hands. "We found out where they're hiding the cake."

I want to tell them sure, to smile and happily skip over to wherever the cake is hidden, but I'm suddenly angry and I can't stop the feeling.

It's unfair, and I'm over it.

Even the stupid chocolate cake reminds me of Eric.

 

 

Tris walks me home.

Christina happily sits atop Rylan's lap. He bids us goodnight, and the look on his face is a bit apprehensive. He must have witnessed Eric's fantastic mood; I want to stay and reassure him it'll be fine, but I don't. I leave with Tris; we wander the hallways longer than necessary, but it feels good to talk with her. She and Four are both polite and good at listening, and it's not long before she brings up Eric. After listening to me tell her the entire story, she gently asks if I'm alright.

"Yeah. Sort of," I tell her, letting my fingers trail along the rough walls. "Eric and I are engaged in this weird silent argument."

Tris glances at me. "He won't talk to you at all?"

I make a face. "He'll talk about stupid stuff, but he's purposely ignoring me. And he's kissed me goodbye just once this whole week. He won't even come near me." I try not to sound like it's bothering me too much, but the distance Eric has put between us feels monumental.

"That's odd," she says, pausing as we turn a corner. "He seems very comfortable being affectionate with you." I look over to her and nod.

"He normally is. So it feels really weird for him to not touch me." It's true. Short of waking up and finding him wrapped around me, Eric has kept his distance. I glance over at Tris and she has a funny look on her face.

"Tris?"

Even in the dim lighting of the hallway I can see Tris's cheeks turning pink.

"What? Spill it!" I tell her.

She looks embarrassed suddenly, and she averts her stare. "I kind of have the opposite problem," she says quietly. We slow down, nearly coming to a dead stop in the middle of the hallway.

"What do you mean the opposite problem? Four's overly affectionate now?" I ask her. Tris and I had talked about their intimacy issues before, but this sounds like progress to me. "That's hardly a problem," I point out, grinning.

Tris only grows redder. "It's not that, exactly. He's... uh.. I think he's taken a page from your and Eric's book."

I look at her in surprise, and the poor thing looks like she wishes she could dissolve into a million pieces. "What do you mean?"

"He's just been really… adventurous lately." She says the last words slowly, and understanding dawns on me.

"Oh." I widen my eyes and try not to laugh. "Did you at least enjoy it? It's kind of cold in that spot. If that's where he took you."

"Everly!" Tris quietly shrieks my name and I can't help but giggle.

"I'm serious. It was really cold at first," I tell her, knowing full well she's dying a bit on the inside. "Well, maybe he just wanted to spice things up. And at least you're safe in knowing he can delete the footage or make sure the cameras are turned off," I point out.

My night with Eric by the chasm was something I'll never forget, but bumping into Four the next morning had made me realize just how public it really had been. I had little doubt that he'd deleted the evidence, for more than a few reasons. But Four and Tris had always been utterly private with their relationship. I'd barely seen them embrace each other, and I was one of the few who actually knew what was going on with them.

Tris blanches. "Weren't you worried someone would see you and Eric?"

"Not really." I shrug. I'd been so completely caught up in the moment that I didn't really think of anything except how it felt to be with Eric like that. I eye her as we start resume our path to the stairwell again. I almost don't want to go home yet; I know Eric won't be there and we'll be no closer to talking than we were this morning.

"Would you do it again?" Tris asks me, and I look at her in surprise.

"Would I? Probably. I have a hard time controlling myself around him," I answer, balancing on the edge of one of the stairs. "Does Four want to do it again?"

"We haven't exactly talked about it." She doesn't look at me. "Is Eric easy to talk to about that sort of stuff?"

"He's definitely more experienced than I am. If I wanted to try something, I don't think he'd have a problem with it. But I don't know if he'd want to sit around and discuss it. He'd rather just do it." I answer her. Everyone is always very curious about Eric behind closed doors, but I don't mind Tris's questions one bit. "He's not great at communicating, though."

"He doesn't seem like he communicates well at all," Tris answers carefully, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"He likes to tell me how he feels in other ways. But he's made progress. He's opened up more than I ever expected he would," I tell her. She grins at me, but my brain is moving a million miles ahead. I think of all the questions he's answered, reluctantly or not. Even at the very beginning of our relationship he opened up to me in his own way, letting me pry things out of him that I imagine he wouldn't tell very many people.

Like his favorite color.

"Everly," Tris says my name loudly, probably noticing I've been lost in my own thoughts. She elbows me, squinting up at the flights of stairs ahead of us. "Why did we take the stairs again?"

It's the first time I've laughed today, and I try to hold onto the feeling for as long as I can.

 

Eric isn't home.

It's shouldn't come as much of a shock; after all, he's been avoiding me for days. I don't know if I should be annoyed or flattered that the biggest, scariest man in Dauntless seems to be afraid to deal with this head on. I've done my part to try to get him to talk, but I'm officially out of patience.

I storm out of the bedroom and come to a stop behind the couch. I take a quick survey of the apartment. There's nothing here to show that he's been home at all. His laptop isn't here, his tablet isn't here, and everything looks exactly the same as it was this morning. He obviously planned to not return home for a while, and a spark of irritation runs through me.

I lean over and brace my hands on the back of the couch, resting my weight there, and close my eyes with an aggravated sigh.

This is ridiculous. I'm officially fed up with crappy people interfering with my life and with the havoc that follows. I've had enough of people trying to tell me who I should be and how I should live — my father by pushing me to stay in Amity, Landon by participating in my kidnapping in the worst way possible, and Evelyn by attempting to erase my entire past and future with a single serum so I could help her obtain her goals of alleged peace. It's more than enough, and I am done with it.

Coming to Dauntless had been the only thing in my life that had been completely my own decision. I had felt free the minute I chose Dauntless, and I'd never once regretted it. The path I'd chosen here may not have been the one I'd imagined taking, but it had been better. It had led me to Eric, to discovering there was more to me than just being a vacuous member of whichever faction I lived in. Here I have a purpose, and I need to get back to why I chose this life.

I make a snap decision and launch myself toward the bedroom where I quickly change, throwing on a sundress and putting my hair in a ponytail. There are a few places Eric could be, and I plan on finding him before I go to bed. 

 

After a good half hour of roaming through the compound, I finally find him in the training room.

The smell of sawdust and metal is so familiar, comforting even. I spent countless hours in this room, and it feels like somewhere I belong. The room is quiet save for the sharp exhales and the heavy pounding against the leather bag.

I walk through the room quietly, not saying a word. It wouldn't matter even if I did — he knows I'm here. I can see him working on the punching bag, his fists slamming into it with lethal precision. He doesn't stop until I come to a halt behind him.

He throws a quick glance back at me and simply shrugs in greeting before his stare finds his target again.

I tilt my head and narrow my eyes, waiting for him to turn around.

He doesn't.

"Eric." I say his name, loud enough for him to hear, but he simply grunts as his fist connects with the bag. There is a dull thud as the bag lurches backwards. He keeps at it, punching methodically until he stops for a second.

"Everly." He turns to stare, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. His eyes skate over my sundress and he smirks. "Not your usual choice of workout wear."

"I'm not here to work out," I inform him, taking a step closer. He finally focuses on me. He straightens his spine and widens his stance and the muscles in his arms tense. "And that's not intimidating, Eric."

He rolls his eyes. "Go home, Amity. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

I bristle at his words. The nickname has never bothered me before. It's always been sort of endearing in a way. I know that he started it as a means to stay impersonal, but it quickly grew to mean something more between the two of us.

But now, it's a clear dismissal.

"No," I tell him. "I want to talk to you, and we're going to talk."

"No, we aren't," he snaps and he turns back to the punching bag. "I think I've heard enough…"

Eric doesn't finish his sentence because I lunge at him. I manage to catch his arm, yanking him back so he's off balance. He stumbles for a split second before he regains control, his eyes flashing at me.

"Everly." He growls my name as a low warning, but I don't back down. I move towards him, until my hands reach for his throat in an ironic imitation of his actions with Landon. I hold on for no more than a second before my feet leave the ground and Eric's arms are around my waist.

"Cute. Now it's time for you to go home," Eric snarls. He knocks my hands off him easily, and without any leverage from the ground I'm thrown off. I lean back, and glare at him.

"Eric, I want to talk to you," I tell him angrily as he drops me to the ground. He shakes his head and takes a step back. "You are being a jerk." I yell the final part, feeling somewhat bad for calling him any sort of name.

He turns back around and he looks eerily calm. "Oh, I'm a jerk. Alright. You want to talk about this? Beat me in this fight and we'll talk."

I don't move. He stares at me as though he's sizing me up, and then he shrugs off the dark t-shirt he has on. I feel a rush of nerves as he locks his stare on me again. I fight against the urge to take a step back from him, reminding myself this is all for show. He would never hurt me, never fight me in any way that would cause me to be physically injured by his own hands.

This is simply the only way he knows how to handle what he's feeling. I know he doesn't want to vocalize what's been bothering him, and it's taken me until now to realize he's hurt, and that Eric doesn't know how to deal with it.

"Fine," I tell him. "I don't have a shirt to take off, but let me fix my hair," I tell him haughtily. I take a second to adjust my ponytail, pulling it tight, and then straighten my shoulders. I'm stalling, attempting to calm down my racing heartbeat. "I can't wait until you have to sit here and listen to what I've been trying to tell you for days," I inform him, trying to sound like I'm confident I can knock him down.

And I am.

Sort of.

"Any day now, Dauntless," Eric throws out mockingly. He's not even looking at me; he's lazily rolling his shoulders back before he takes a step towards me. "Or should we settle this the Amity way? We could sit around and meditate on it?"

His words irritate me even though I know what he's doing. He's baiting me, and unfortunately, it works. I advance towards him, and my fist connects with his stomach before I know what's happening. A look of surprise crosses his face, but it's fleeting. He lunges at me, grabbing my waist but I shove him back. He's got my arm in his grasp before I can catch my balance, his fingers winding around my bicep, and he pulls me flush against him.

"Is that the best you've got? One punch? I trained you better than that," he scoffs. He lets go of me, and I pull back, ready to go after him again.

"I train my soldiers to be the best." He pauses, and his next words are tauntingly slow. "To be able to save their own lives if necessary."

I know what he's getting at.

My fist connects with his side, and I try not to swear at the pain that bursts through my hand. I pummel him the best I can, advancing towards him until he's had enough. He knocks me back a step, but his hand reaches out to steady me before I fall.

"Now that hardly seems like the girl I trained."

It's my turn to snarl at him, and I slam my fist towards his face. He's much taller than me, so there's no possible way I could reach high enough to hit him with any real force. His lips turn up cruelly at my attempt. He catches my fist in his hand, and he forces me back off of him.

"Oh, Everly. That wouldn't take down one of Four's failed initiates, let alone me. Guess we won't be having that discussion tonight." He says the words with mock sympathy, and I look up at him in defeat.

"Sorry, Eric. I guess you're right," I tell him sweetly, batting my eyes at him. He doesn't have time to look suspicious because I quickly knee him as hard as possible, and it sends him reeling back. Eric hunches over, his eyes shutting tightly.

"Fuck," he snarls in a strangled gasp, and I briefly wonder if this will affect our future children. He stumbles for a second before he can look up to glare at me, and I'm momentarily frozen in place. Before I can move to attack him again, he recovers. I barely have to time to retreat away from him before he's trapped me against him, his fingers digging into my skin.

"Smart girl," he growls, and the next thing I know my head slams back onto the mat. He hovers over me, knocking one of my knees to the side. "Maybe you did pay attention during your training."

"Get off of me," I snap, trying to wiggle free from beneath him. He held me in place like this once before. It was during one delicious, teasing, and drawn-out training session, before I'd even let myself imagine anything more with him. The weight of Eric is familiar, warm and heavy, and I try to remember why I came down here. "This isn't fair and you know it."

Eric smirks again, and I realize his grey eyes have darkened considerably. He pushes his hips into mine before he rises up. I move to sit up and he shoves me back down, pinning one of my hands above my head. His eyes bore into mine, and I try to calm the erratic beat of my heart.

"Nothing happened with Landon," I tell him suddenly. My words sound angry, but it wanes quickly. "You know I would have told you if something had."

His face tightens, but he doesn't move.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to, because otherwise you'll just stay mad at me, thinking something actually did. It kills me that you think that, but I need to make sure you didn't just kill him because he was my ex-boyfriend." I say the words gently, really not wanting to label Landon any more than necessary.

Eric's jaw tightens, and I can tell he's trying to keep himself quiet.

"I killed him because he deserved it. There was no way I'd let him take you away from me again." He finally says the words through gritted teeth, and he never breaks eye contact. "I'll kill anyone that tries."

I nod at him. "I know." I stop and try to wiggle my wrist free. His eyes flash upwards for a second, and I use the opportunity to slide my free hand into his hair. I dig my fingers into the sides of his soft hair, pulling him closer. "I never meant for my questions to make you think I felt anything for Landon."

Eric shuts his eyes and he shakes his head. I can feel him try to pull back slightly and the muscles in his neck tense. "I never loved him like I love you."

He opens his eyes, the same icy grey storm that I've lost myself in countless times. He's breathing heavily and swallows thickly. "You are mine... only mine." His words are serious and tight, laced with complete conviction. "You were mine before you even knew it."

He's right.

I was his long before I ever accidentally slept in his bed, long before he let me inch my way closer to him. It wasn't anything either of us had consciously sought out, yet it wouldn't have made sense any other way.

He rises up a hair and lets go of my wrist. I bring it down to the other side of his head, and I pull my knees up, drawing him back to me. "I don't want it to ever be like this again, with us at odds with each other," I answer, and his nose brushes against mine. I can feel the skirt of my dress creep dangerously higher on my thighs, and his hips rock against mine.

"I didn't tell you about Landon because he wasn't important. I've chosen you since the first day you chose me. I didn't want to think about him, about everything that I'd left behind. None of that mattered to me. Don't you see that?" I ask him, and I realize his breathing has become sort of erratic. "You are my choice, Eric."

His lips crash into mine, demanding and frenzied, and I kiss him back frantically. I don't pull away until my lungs are burning, and my breathing is rough and uneven.

"I won't lose you again." He says the words vehemently against my ear, his lips grazing over it gently. I shiver, realizing he's slowly losing the angry tension in him. "I'll kill anyone that comes near you, and you'll be fine with it."

I can't help but smile at his words even though they are ridiculous. "Anyone?" I ask him as his mouth works its way down my neck. The stubble on his cheeks tickles my skin, but I lean into him, wanting him closer to me.

"Anyone," he murmurs, distracted by what he's doing. He breaks free from my skin and pauses to look down at me. "I would never do anything to drive you away from me. You know that, right?" His words are raw and honest, and I reach up for him, yanking him to me.

"Yes." I press my lips against his, and I close my eyes.

The next few minutes are filled with nothing but bliss. I let myself feel everything, and I think about nothing but Eric. The weight of him on top of me, his soft lips against mine, the feel of him between my legs, the way he has pressed me into the training mats — the very same training mats that I'd spent countless hours on with him — the way his hand has slipped beneath the bottom of my dress, his rough palm trailing up my leg until he finds my waist.

"I love you." He says the words after breaking apart for a moment; he holds my stare before he smiles smugly, his lips curling up in delight. "Even if you did think you'd beat me in a fight."

I mock glare at him, but it fades as soon as he resumes his work. He kisses my throat, working his way down to my collarbone, biting where he pleases. I'm having a hard time focusing on anything but how wonderful it feels to have him back like this. The past few days fade away as he pushes the strap of my dress down, kissing the bare skin at a torturously slow pace.

"Eric..." I find myself gasping his name when he shifts closer, his erection pressing into me. I'm dizzied by the feeling, knowing exactly where this is heading. My head falls to the side when his fingers skim over my ribs, and I close my eyes when he reclines back, straightening himself up. His hands leave my skin and I nearly hiss at the lack of contact.

"Come back," I whine, missing the warmth of him. The air feels cool against my exposed skin, and I open my eyes when I hear him unzip his pants.

He's looking at me with dark eyes, and I watch as his lips part. He starts to shove his pants down until I can see the dark fabric of his boxers. I reach for him, growing impatient as the seconds pass by. He leans in until he's covering me, effectively trapping me beneath him.

"I love you." I tell him, burying my face in his neck. I kiss the skin hidden beneath the columns of ink, and he groans.

"Do you have any idea how many times I thought about this?" He hisses the words between his teeth, and he pauses only to nip at my skin. "How many days of training I wondered what it would have been like to shove you onto this mat and undress you, have my way with you before Four's class came back?"

I grow hot at his words, but then I suddenly gasp, pushing him upright.

"Eric!" I pull the strap of my dress up, and he looks confused. Well, irritated and confused.

"What?" he asks, and he clenches his jaw. "You want to talk about Landon some more before we continue?"

I shake my head furiously. "No! I mean, I definitely want you to keep going. But not here. I want you to take me home."

Eric looks at me strangely and I glance upwards, until I find the blinking red light high on the wall. Eric turns, an indignant look crossing his face until he finds what I'm looking at. He turns back to look at me, and he seems all too delighted.

"You afraid Four won't enjoy another show?" He smirks, sounding highly entertained by the idea. I lean up, kissing him quickly and shake my head. I'd nearly died when I ran into Four in the hallway after having sex with Eric by the chasm. I'd been mortified, not by what we were doing, but by the fact that he'd probably witnessed the entire thing.

"I just want it to be you and me. In our bed." I look up at him and I smile. "And you can take off your pants completely at home, without Four watching."

He smiles at me, and I can tell he's trying not to laugh. It's a rare look for Eric, and it looks deliciously good on him.

"Take me home," I tell him again, and he nods.

"If you insist, Everly." He rises up to stand, rearranging his clothing, then reaches a hand out to me. I take it, and when I stand he yanks me until I'm back against him. He looks happy as he slides his hands into my hair, curling his fingers in. "You ready, Dauntless?" Eric teases, and I find myself smiling widely.

Things feel different now, like a heavy understanding has settled between us and I'm finally free. I laugh lightly as together, hand in hand, we walk out of the training room.

 

My good mood lasts until we pass by the chasm.

A crowd has gathered, noisily yelling and shoving each other, and at first I think it's just part of the ongoing celebration. The party is still raging, but the closer we get to the crowd, the clearer it becomes that this is not a party. There's a woman perched at the edge of the chasm, dangerously close to falling off.

Or stepping off.

She hesitates for a moment, her wavy blonde hair falling in her face.

"Eric, that's Britney." I pull on his arm, and he lets out a grunt of exasperation. Minutes ago he'd been ready to have sex in the middle of the training room, and now he's trapped in a swarm of Dauntless as they yell out for Britney to either get down or jump already.

"We should get her down," I tell him, and he sighs heavily. Britney is a Dauntless leader, but she isn't always at our meetings. I don't know a ton about her other than that she flits in and out as she pleases. She's only attended one meeting that I've been in, and she spent the entire time furiously tapping away at her phone.

"She's more likely to listen to you than to me. You go try to talk to her, and I'll go get some medical help," Eric answers, looking irritated. He hesitates for a second, then quickly kisses me. "Give me two minutes."

I nod to Eric, then push my way through the crowd. The air is cool over here, and the spray from the waterfall is ice cold. I shove someone out of my way, returning his dirty look as I move past him.

"Sorry," he mutters, realizing who I am.

I ignore him, carefully stepping as close to Britney as I can get without startling her.

"Hey! Britney! Come on down. You're going to fall," I call out to her solicitously. My words seem to be lost in the roar of the waterfall, but she must hear me. She turns back around, straightening herself to her full, imposing height, and shakes her head at me.

"Leave me alone!" she shrieks, putting her hands up at me to stop me from getting any closer.

"Yeah, leave Britney alone!" someone yells out from the crowd. Against my better instincts, I reach out for her.


	46. Guess Who's Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks SO much for reading and commenting on this story! I appreciate all of your support! Sorry that I am terrible with replying to the comments. I'll try today, but for some reason my phone makes it super hard to reply unless I'm on my laptop. 
> 
> Thank you for all your patience :)
> 
> Thanks to BK2U for editing this!

I keep my hand extended out towards Britney, moving slowly so as to not startle her. When I'm close enough that I can finally grab her, she jerks away from me, pushing herself dangerously close to the edge.

"Britney, get back here. You're going to fall!" I repeat myself, trying to talk some common sense into her. For a moment she blinks at me, and I think my words might have sunk in. But then she shakes her head furiously.

"I said…" she begins vehemently, but suddenly her eyes widen in surprise.

"Get the fuck over here." Eric shoves past me, and he snarls the words at her. He reaches for her and yanks her back before she can respond, not giving a flying fuck if she wants to be saved or not. She follows him easily, but it's not like he's really giving her a choice. He half-drags her down from the chasm, and waits impatiently until she stops squirming. "Arlene's on her way," he announces, keeping one hand on her arm.

At Arlene's name Britney shrieks, trying to thrash away from Eric. "Leave me alone!" she hisses back at him, but he doesn't let go. He glares at her before he turns his stare to mine. There's a look of frustration flashing across his face, no doubt for more than one reason.

I glance at her and realize that if Britney had managed to fall into the chasm, we'd be short a leader. Even if Eric were to push to finish up my training faster, I still wouldn't be able to take her place for some time. Now's not exactly the best time to be down a leader, even if Britney hasn't been participating all that much lately.

I smile at him and scrunch my nose up. Britney is giving him her best death glare, but he's ignoring her as though she's merely an irritating child. I watch him turn his head at the sound of approaching footsteps, and I've never been more relieved than when his expression relaxes back into simple annoyance.

"Quiet," he tells her sternly, turning to look at everyone gawking at them. "Move over," he loudly snaps at the people in front of him, and they obediently take a step back. There are a few concerned murmurs, but they quiet down as soon as Arlene appears.

She looks as intense as ever, and she's brought four of her largest and strongest nurses with her. She assesses the situation as she walks, her eyes narrowed on Britney's crumpled form. With a heavy sigh, she turns to her helpers and nods wordlessly. They move in practiced unison, as though this situation is nothing out of the ordinary for them. They immediately surround her, and Britney's eyes widen again, this time in fear as she realizes there is no way to escape from them. A male nurse steps closer to her, keeping his eyes glued to her, and I notice he has something in his hand. Something sharp.

I can't see what happens next, but I do hear her screech, and I realize Britney probably won't be joining us at the leadership meetings anytime soon.

 

 

"Will she be okay?" I ask, looking up at Eric.

I'm seated on the edge of our bed, watching him undress. He takes off the T-shirt he wore earlier, and he shakes his head 'no' with a scowl.

"I think Britney is gonna take a little vacation for a while," he informs me. He pauses, pressing his hands over his face, and I can almost see the weight of today bearing down on him. Our fight had the same sort of draining effect on him that it did me. After a moment, he glances at the bathroom door and cocks an eyebrow at me. "I'm going to take a quick shower. Are you coming?"

It's not really a question, and I smile as I slip off the bed without answering him.

 

 

Ten minutes later, his mouth is on my neck and I'm trying hard to keep my balance in the shower. I try to brace myself against the wall, but I can't suppress my giggle as he bites my earlobe. Eric seems to take up most of the shower, or maybe that's just his presence. His assault on my skin continues, assuring me that all traces of our argument are long forgotten. He pushes himself a fraction of an inch closer to me, and my hands travel over his slick body, enjoying the way the muscles in his back tighten as my hands work their way down to the narrowest part of his waist.

I dig them into his skin, pulling him forward. I want him closer to me, his form pressed tightly against my own. I ignore the chill of the shower wall against my back as Eric's lips find mine, and one of his arms manages to slide around my waist.

"Are you ready to get out?" He says the words in a rich tone, one that I've missed this past week. He sounds just like the Eric that I've known since I came here — the one that's half-teasing, but mostly dead serious.

I smile up at him, rising up to press my lips against his. He responds easily, demanding I part my lips for him, and I know if we don't get out of here in the next minute, I'll be wiping shampoo out of my eyes again.

"Yes," I answer, reluctantly pulling away from him. I grin up at him as he pulls me away from the wall. He walks us forward a step, until I'm back under the water, and he kisses me fiercely. I've missed him like this, far more than I can bear to think about. His belief, for even a moment, that something could have happened with Landon had been almost physically painful, and had brought with it a sharp realization of how much Eric means to me.

And of how much I mean to him.

"Eric." I say his name when he takes a step back, wiping water off his face, and he appraises me up and down.

He must remember our last rendezvous in the shower, because he smirks at me before he backs away.

"Here." Eric opens the shower door, and waits patiently for me to finish rinsing my hair. He holds the door open for me, and I step out of the shower without another word. I take the towel from him, noting the way his eyes are dark now.

"Are you tired?" I call out over my shoulder, heading towards the dresser. I reach for the top drawer, before I hear him following after me.

"Everly."

He says my name in a predatory tone, and I turn around. I'm in the middle of pulling out something to wear to bed, trying to decide if I want one of his shirts or something prettier. My fingers tighten on the flimsy fabric when I realize he's walking towards me, completely naked except for the shit-eating grin on his face.

"Don't bother getting dressed."

I drop the fabric completely when he reaches me, all hard muscle and steely eyes. He extends a hand out for me, his eyes never leaving mine, pulling me gently until I am right in front of him. I stay perfectly still as he brushes my hair out of eyes, not stopping until he's satisfied it's all off my face. He drops his hand to my side, letting his fingers skim down over my ribs, over the very same spot he once memorized on a night when he tried to tell me how he wasn't good with being gentle.

He was wrong then, so very wrong.

He hadn't been aware of how gently his fingers had slid over my skin from day one. How he had gradually pushed himself towards me, and instinctively drawn me closer to him. How he had slowly — mind-numbingly slowly — made me long for him. How he had made me wait until he could be completely sure of himself, completely sure that he was capable of being more than what his hard exterior and terrible reputation had led everyone — including him — to believe. How he had won me over with a gentleness he hadn't even known he possessed.

His fingers follow the same pattern now, trailing where they please, without hesitation.

"I love you."

He says the words first this time, quiet and low, always only for me. He says them as his eyes land on mine; they are suddenly less dark and far more tranquil than before. He looks almost innocent in this moment, like he's always been this open, and this willing to tell me how he feels — despite the turmoil of this past week. I relish in his declarations; they aren't as far apart and fleeting as before, but each one is still burned into my mind. I could catalogue my entire relationship with Eric, and I still wouldn't change one thing.

It's mere moments before I am pressed beneath him, tangled in our dark sheets, beneath his heavy limbs and his wanting mouth. His name is the only thing I can say, urging him on until neither of us can remember why we were ever in that very stupid argument.

 

 

He presses the gun into the palm of my hand, and the metal is cold.

"You need to keep this on you at all times, unless you are home with me. Understood?" Eric's words drift across the office, and I curl my fingers around the grip; the gun suddenly feels unusually heavy in my hand.

"Why are you giving this to me now?" I ask him, confused by the situation. He'd shown up out of nowhere, despite the fact that I was working alongside him today. He'd been fine all morning until he'd suddenly sat upright and announced he had a quick errand to run. It was now clear that procuring this gun was that errand. "Does everyone in Dauntless carry one all the time?"

Eric takes a sharp inhale and shakes his head. "All Dauntless leaders carry full time. Patrol squad leaders and squad members, security officers, really anyone on active security status who might be called into action is expected to carry one." He pauses, and his grey eyes look me up and down lazily. "I put off getting you one because I didn't think you'd need it just yet."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I could have used one months ago," I point out, and my tone is half-teasing. In all fairness, Colton had pounced on me with such a vengeance during my kidnapping that I wouldn't have had the chance to pull out a gun and shoot him even if I had tried.

Eric winces imperceptibly, then picks up where he left off. "All other Dauntless are required to be armed only when they leave the compound. The trainers don't need to carry their personal weapons during initiation, since they demonstrate with the training weapons instead. Besides," he adds scornfully, "We prefer you discipline the initiates in other ways."

"I wouldn't have shot them." I widen my eyes, pretending to be insulted. "I know plenty of ways to discipline them." I toy with the gun for a moment, releasing the magazine and turning it over. It feels oddly cold and different in my hand.

"Yes, you're terrifying," Eric retorts, but his lips curl up as he says the words. "You and I will train with it later this week. The serial number is assigned to you, so you need to make sure it stays with you." His eyes land on the hem of my dress, and I know what's coming next.

"You might want to try wearing pants," he tells me, his gaze sharpening when it falls to my bare legs.

I try not to squirm under his stare.

I'd taken a risk in wearing something that most leaders wouldn't. There is no official dress code for anyone in Dauntless, mostly just accepted norms — like showing up in something other than a dark color would be frowned upon. Today, I'm wearing the sundress Christina helped me pick out during one of my first few weeks here. It's far frillier than would likely be deemed acceptable, considering I'm expected to continue weapons and combat training, but I did paint my nails black to compensate.

"But it's really nice out," I tell Eric, and he merely huffs in response.

It is really nice out, and it's a relief after what has felt like an endless winter. Summer was my favorite season in Amity, and it's quickly becoming my favorite in Dauntless, too. We may not have rivers and streams here, but we have the sun-drenched rooftops to sit on, and there are some quiet areas at the edge of the faction that feel like anywhere but Dauntless. Not to mention the outdoor activities. Now that the snow is gone and the winds have died down, there are plenty of opportunities for all sorts of daredevil-ish doings.

"It is," Eric answers evenly, keeping his stare locked on mine. "I mean, I don't mind the dresses. But you'll have a hard time carrying a gun in that outfit."

"I know," I tell him, suddenly envisioning a lifetime of dark pants, and I grimace. "Alright."

Eric frowns at the look on my face but he doesn't have to time to ask me about it. Max appears through the office door with a scowl on his face and a fistful of papers.

"I need a word, Eric." He doesn't bother with pleasantries, but he nods his approval at the gun in my hand.

"Hi, Max," I offer up, sliding the magazine back into place. I fumble for a moment, unsure of where to place the gun. Eric grunts and holds out his hand, and he shoots me a look that says 'I told you so'.

"Morning, Everly." Max waits for Eric, rifling through the papers in his hand. "Either of you get the latest email from Harrison?"

Eric nods his head yes, I shake my head no, and Max's mouth presses into a fine line.

"Alright, he's waiting in my office. We can grab a coffee on the way." Max is speaking only to Eric, but he glances back at me, smiling as though he forgot I was there. "Everly, we'll see you for lunch."

My dismissal is polite yet unmistakable, but it doesn't bother me.

Harrison had looked even less pleasant than usual this morning, and this is one meeting I don't care to sit in on.

 

 

The sun feels glorious on my skin.

I decide to take full advantage of the nice weather and lead Eric up to the rooftop to eat lunch. He follows after me without protest, and he smirks when I bring him to a half-shaded spot, nearly shoving him to get him to sit down. I wiggle closer on his lap until I'm comfortable, and he snakes a heavily muscled arm around me. I stare down at the dark fabric of his pants, noticing the way it makes my bare skin look paler than ever.

"What did Max want?" I ask Eric, reclining back against his chest.

Eric snorts into my hair. "Marcus has been badgering Harrison about a security briefing. He wants an update on Evelyn because he thinks Max is purposely leaving him out of the loop. Max found that highly insulting."

"Well, is he?" I take a bite of the sandwich I've brought, and I wait for Eric to answer. He takes his time, and one of his hands begins skimming along the side of my waist. Behind me, I can sense his grin.

"Yes."

I can't help the laugh that escapes my throat. "Any reason why Max would feel like Marcus should be left out?"

Eric pokes my side, and when he speaks he sounds pained. "I told him it's none of Marcus's concern. He doesn't need to know everything that's going on with Evelyn. Only things that pertain to the safety of Abnegation. Which, so far, has been nothing of consequence."

"But there have been new security updates in regards to Abnegation?" I pick apart my sandwich, noticing Eric stays quiet.

"A few," he finally answers, shrugging. His fingers dig into my side. "They've upped security patrols in case Evelyn shows up, but we think that's a long shot."

"Marcus doesn't need to know that?" I ask him, wishing I'd picked out something else for lunch. Eric remains silent, sitting perfectly still.

I sit up a bit and turn back to look at Eric. His eyes are shut and he's clearly pretending he isn't aware I've changed positions to stare at him.

"Eric." I say his name, and when he doesn't move, I repeat it again. "ERIC."

"Everly," he drawls, not bothering to open his eyes. "I'm enjoying this weather. Why are you yelling?"

"Why don't you want Marcus to know anything?" I ask him, and he finally opens one eye at me.

"He doesn't deserve to know what Evelyn's doing. He won't play any part in taking her down, and he certainly won't be out actively looking for her. So he doesn't really need any special information passed his way."

I squint at him, and I try hard to keep a straight face. "Is that really it?"

Eric opens both of his eyes now, chagrin flashing through them. "Don't think about it too hard, Amity. I'm not doing the Stiff any favors. This is purely business."

I lean in until my nose touches his, and I wait until I feel him grin. "I love you, Eric."

"Good," he answers, and leans forward until his lips touch mine. "I wouldn't eat outside for just anyone, you know."

 

 

The gun training is easier than I'd expected.

A day later, Eric and I return to the roof, and I take a moment to enjoy the feeling of being outside again. I'd compromised on Eric's suggestion to wear pants and had worn leggings. He'd given me a look while he took the gun from me, but he seemed to forget about it by the time we reached the roof.

"You ready for this?" he asks me, his face serious as ever. I nod, knowing this isn't something he's taking lightly.

Eric trains me the same way as he did before. He presses himself up against my back, kneeing my legs apart just a bit further, and he wraps his hands around mine. I like the feel of his chest behind me, but I know full well that if this were a real situation in which I needed to shoot someone, he wouldn't be there to lean against.

When he's made sure my aim is accurate, he instructs me to shoot, and I squeeze the trigger confidently. I was never scared to shoot any of the guns, but this feels different. It feels more real, more necessary than my previous training. As the bullet pierces through the target, neatly slicing through the bull's-eye, I realize that it's because it's personal now.

"The patrols are picking up this week. You're going to head out on one in a few days." His words are spoken lowly in my ear despite our being the only two on the deserted roof. "In the event that you come across Evelyn, or anyone associated with Evelyn, you'll be expected to shoot without hesitation." He lets go of me, and takes a step back.

I nod and squeeze the trigger again. Up until this point I've only envisioned punching her face in, but shooting her would be something else.

"You'll aim to stun her, disarm her, and slow her down. We don't want her dead…" He pauses, watching as my shot lands in the dead center of the target. "But if that's the case, then we'll take it."

"Should I expect her to shoot first?" I ask him, trying to remember if I'd ever seen a weapon on Evelyn. I can only remember her waxing on and on about peace, and her watery apology over Colton's violence during my abduction.

Eric presses his lips together. "You'd know better than we would. All our soldiers are being told to expect her to attack first. She'll be on the defensive, after all."

I think of her face — her dark hair, her hooked nose, and her ears that stick out a bit, all just like Four's. I think of the way she left him behind, the way she hissed at me as she dragged me through a battlefield, the way she so casually injected me with something specifically designed to wipe my mind clean, and I realize I'll have little problem shooting first.

"And you're okay with me going out on this patrol, possibly running into her?" I ask him, more curious than ever. This is the first time he hasn't responded to such a situation by throwing a fit or demanding he come along himself.

Eric lets out a heavy sigh and squints at the sun. "It's not my choosing. Part of your training requires you to know how to oversee a patrol squad, and Max stressed that you needed to complete that section of your training."

He frowns when he notices I'm smiling at him, remembering Max scolding him for eliminating parts of the training he had deemed unimportant. "Lose the grin, Amity. I would volunteer my services to oversee that part of your training…" He pauses, and I can't wait to hear what comes next. "But Max believes you will have a more realistic experience if I am not there."

"I agree with Max," I tell him, starting to feel excited about this. So far I'd only seen the patrol squads on the monitors. And while being kidnapped. It would be eye-opening to work with one, going along on their normal day. And Eric is right: if he were to come along, it would be a very different experience. "I think it'll be great practice."

"I don't. Which is why you'll oversee a squad very close to Dauntless for a very short amount of time," he snaps, drawing himself to his full height. He looks down at me, and I've come to realize when his face tightens like this, it's more than likely worry.

"Of course," I tell him, rising up to kiss him. "I wouldn't expect anything else."

He smiles tightly, and I can tell he's only partially relieved.

 

 

"You're going out with one of the patrol squads? When?" Tris flops down on her couch beside me and squeezes her eyes shut.

"I think at the end of the week. Max told Eric that I have to complete that part of the training, and that Eric can't go with me," I tell her with a grin, pulling my feet up. Tris and I had planned to meet for dinner, but she'd called me after her shift to ask if we could just eat in her apartment. When I got here, I took one look at her tired expression and knew she was exhausted after working all those odd shifts.

"And he didn't lose it?" Tris asks, reaching up to press on her temples. For a moment she looks so miserable that I want to offer to take her to see Arlene, but then she opens her eyes and smiles. "I'm shocked he's letting you go. I've noticed they've been sending out a lot more of them lately. Further out, too," she adds.

"He didn't have a choice. And I'm excited to go. It was really fun to train the initiate class, but I think it will feel good to get out from the depths of Dauntless," I answer, reaching for the plate on her coffee table.

Tris's apartment is small but very practical. She shares it with Christina, but I know Christina spends most of her time at Rylan's. Her kitchen is a third of the size of Eric's, and rather than make her cook, I'd gone down to the dining hall and brought dinner back here.

"Do you think you'll find anything out there?" Tris asks, taking a bite of the hamburger and wrinkling her nose.

"Do you mean, like, will I find Evelyn lurking around?" I ask her, knowing full well that's what she meant. Evelyn has never been a touchy subject for us, but Tris would be the first person I would tell if there were something newsworthy to report about her. I owe it to her and Four to keep them updated. "I don't know. I don't know where she could have gone."

Truth be told, I have no clue.

It's a little confusing how she's managed to hide her entire army. The factionless compound had been teeming with people, all buzzing around, actively trained and ready to kill for Evelyn. There's no way they just vanished, and no way they could have been absorbed by another faction.

I sit up straighter at the thought, then slump back down. At one point in time I'd been convinced Johanna was letting people back into Amity, but thinking about it now, the idea seems stupid.

"Everly, you okay?" Tris asks, and she looks worried.

"I wonder if they joined other factions," I say to her, and for a moment she looks confused. "The factionless. I mean, where else did they go?"

"You can't just join another faction. It's not like you can just show up and blend in somewhere," Tris points out. "They'd stick out immediately unless they had family in those factions." She stops and very gently asks her next question.

"Did anyone ever show back up in Amity?"

"I don't know. If no one was paying close enough attention, maybe. A person could possibly slip in and start working without anyone protesting," I tell her. "But start a whole new life there? No."

"Darn it. There goes my dream of moving to Amity," she tells me dryly, smirking. "Maybe there are other factionless communities. I should ask Kacie if she's noticed anything like that in any other sections."

Tris takes another bite of her hamburger, swallows, then yawns. "Sorry," she apologizes, setting her dinner down. "These shifts are killing me."

"It's fine. I should head home as soon as we are done. I told Eric I'd be back early." Eric wasn't overly thrilled when I told him that I was eating dinner with Tris, but then again, he hasn't been too thrilled about a lot of things lately. I know he isn't completely good with me training with a patrol squad, but he's kept his mouth shut since the last time we talked about it.

Tris nods and leans back against the couch. "You guys seem better."

I nod at her. "We made up. But I'll spare you the details," I say with a laugh, watching her mock cringe. Tris has always listened very carefully to everything I've ever told her about Eric, but she probably doesn't want to hear how we settled our disagreement.

"Thank you." She grins, shifting against the couch. "You and Eric have the most interesting ways of handling your disagreements, and I'd normally love to hear about it, but I don't want Four to get any more ideas."

"You sure about that? We did make up in the training room," I tell her, giggling through my words.

"I'll tell Four to delete that footage." She snickers and rubs her eyes for a second. "I think I'm gonna tell Four I'm too tired for him to come over. And see if I can get someone to cover for me tomorrow."

I nod at her, worry working its way through me. "I hope your schedule straightens out soon."

"Me, too," she mutters, slumping down along the couch. She looks half-asleep, and I decide I will head home. I take her plate from the table, along with my own, and head towards the tiny kitchen. By the time I clean up the dishes, put the rest of her dinner in her refrigerator and throw out the trash, Tris is fast asleep.

 

 

The next few days slip by without much fanfare.

I spend my mornings with Eric, going over every report he finishes and making sure I can see the reasoning behind how he responds to every question or request. I sit in on meeting after meeting, trying to absorb every detail I can, including the one about Britney. Her absence is noted, and while I sit there beside Eric, I suddenly realize everyone in the room looks a little edgy. Rylan and Jason are unusually quiet, and even Tori seems lost in thought.

"How are we going to handle this little fiasco?" Max asks loudly, and I watch as Eric presses his fingers to his temples, as though the very idea pains him. I can tell he's over it; after all, he did his part to help Britney. When no one offers up any answers, Max sighs heavily and says he'll confer with Arlene; then he continues on, discussing the upcoming meeting with the leaders of all the factions.

By the time we break for lunch, my brain feels fried and I feel unnaturally cranky. All until Eric slips his fingers through mine and yanks me back against him.

"We'll eat lunch at home," he hisses through his teeth, his grumpy demeanor more pronounced as we pass Linda's nosy gaze. She smiles knowingly, her stare skirting over the both of us as we wait for the elevator.

Eric pretends not to notice.

"Sure. We can go home," I tell him, not really caring where we eat, and he nods his approval.

 

 

Turns out Eric's definition of eating lunch is lying in bed with my head on his chest while he takes a nap.

It isn't the worst way to spend one's lunch hour, and I find myself falling asleep right along with him.

 

 

On Friday I wear pants.

I've worn them before, but this time it feels as though they have a purpose. Eric checks out my outfit, making sure that I look the part, and hands me my gun with a tight smile.

"Good luck today." He swallows and keeps his eyes locked on mine. I smile at him, wishing I had another way to reassure him that nothing will go wrong. I want to point out that I'd gone looking for Evelyn with him once before and we'd come up empty-handed; that this will be nothing more than a simple patrol route, in an armored Dauntless truck, with a well-practiced patrol squad. But I keep quiet, knowing my words would only irritate him more.

"Thanks, Eric." I grin up at him, and I don't wait for him to pull me close. I hug him goodbye tightly, throwing my arms around him and letting myself enjoy the feel of him. He no longer stiffens when I hug him, but there are still occasions when he flounders for a split second for a reaction.

Today is one of those occasions.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm done. Then we can go home and have dinner. And I'll read a book while you work, and then we'll go to bed." I say the words mostly to his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat, and I swear I can feel him smile.

"Be careful out there," he admonishes, his voice sounding strained. "If you have any problems, just shoot whoever you run into. I'll make sure no one questions whatever you need to do."

I lift my head off of his chest, grinning up at him. "Eric, we talked about killing people who come too close to me."

He finally smiles, the kind where his lips curl up in amusement, before he bends down until his face is level with mine. He pauses, letting his nose brush against my own and he finally mumbles against my lips.

"You didn't disagree."

 

 

Karl is over the moon when he realizes I'm accompanying his particular patrol squad. His promotion to leader of his own squad had been well-earned, and now that Eric has decided his is the shift I'll follow, it has only added to his sense of achievement.

I stand next to Karl, craning my neck up to look at him. In his uniform he looks every inch one of Dauntless's best soldiers. He holds his shoulders in the same straight manner that Eric does, and his stare is sharp and alert. Gone is the easygoing boy, the only initiate decent enough to not try to kill me, and in his place is a well-trained soldier, one who takes great pride in his job.

"Welcome to our squad, Everly." He grins widely, breaking his stoic demeanor briefly to reveal the Karl I know.

"Thanks, Karl." I glance at the others beside him.

They are a mix of men and women, younger and older, all readying weapons. While they all look serious, they also seem to relish their positions.

Except for one familiar face.

Peter purposely bumps my shoulder, then throws a fake apologetic smile at me. "Oh, sorry Everly, I didn't see you there. I didn't know Eric was letting you out of his office today." He says the words with a snicker, as though he finds my presence here hilarious.

There are a few snorts from behind him, and someone coughs uncomfortably.

But I don't let him bother me.

I adjust the cuff of my sleeve before I smile up at him, trying to keep my expression completely innocent. "It's alright. It's part of my leadership training that I follow a patrol squad." I pause, making sure to make eye contact. "But I guess you don't really know anything about that program, right?"

My words sound sweet and innocent, but he's smarter than that. Peter's jaw goes slack, and his face reddens with anger.

"Watch it," he snaps and I keep my eyes trained on his, unwilling to look away first. After dealing with the king of intimidation himself, Peter doesn't scare me, not in the least bit.

After a few moments, when I'm certain he knows I'm not backing down, I glance down to examine my nails for a second before looking back up at him through my lashes. "I'll let Eric know you said hello."

Karl lets out a loud bark of laughter, and he slaps me on the shoulder hard enough that I nearly pitch forward. "Hilarious. You guys are great. But it's time to get going. We're supposed to be heading towards sections two and six. Everly, you can ride with me."

Peter throws him a dirty look, but he slips away without another word.

Karl turns to the rest of the group, and they assemble quickly. "Move out," he prompts, and I watch as they file past us, heading towards the large grey vehicles. It's clear they are used to listening to his orders. Karl motions for me to follow him, and I feel a rush of excitement.

"How long did it take to learn to drive this thing? Can you teach me to drive it?" I ask him, staring up at the doors. The trucks are massively oversized; each one is an identical grey color with black numbering on the hood. There are rails along the sides, and a ladder to climb up from the running boards. I've ridden in them a few times, but they seem larger out here.

"I probably could if Eric approved, but something tells me that'll never happen." Karl looks suspicious at my request, but his good nature soon wins out and he suddenly beams from his spot next to me. "It didn't take me very long to learn, back when I started as a patrol squad member. I'd never driven anything before, but these were surprisingly easy to learn on."

"Impressive. I wonder if Eric would teach me how to drive one," I ponder, but before I can even think of a way to convince him, the first truck starts off past us.

Karl cocks an eyebrow at me. "It's now or never."

 

 

Three hours later, I've come to realize that being on the patrol squad full time would either be very exciting or very boring.

We've driven to the second section, the one that sits just on the outskirts of Dauntless. There are a few buildings that surround the area: large, rundown structures that bank a corner. I shift my weight as we walk past them for the second time, trying to take note of anything out of the ordinary.

It's all new to me, and Karl points out that I might be able to spot something they wouldn't think to look at. "We see the same shit every day. Sometimes multiple times a day," he reminds me, leading us towards the side of the road. I'm surprised to find that along the edge of Dauntless runs a river, emerging from the underground. It makes sense, though: the waterfall from the chasm has to lead somewhere.

"I didn't know Dauntless even went this far," I announce, walking alongside him. The rest of his patrol squad has moved to walk up ahead of us. They are polite towards me; each one speaks clearly and respectfully to me. They don't hover or try to make it seem like I am owed any special treatment. I've found it easy to blend in with them, even if I'm not entirely sure what I'm looking for.

"The territory is bigger than you think," Karl responds absentmindedly, his sights set on the distance. "You and Eric ever come out this way?"

I shake my head.

Eric had taken me lots of places while we ran, but always along the same paths, and we never strayed too far away from the main compound. But Karl looks surprised as he looks down at me.

"Did he take you to try zip lining?" he asks me casually, trying to sound like he's not prying.

I shake my head again. "What's zip lining?" I've never heard of such a thing, but the look on Karl's face tells me it's something good and I've been missing out.

"Seriously?" He comes to a halt and his eyes go wide. "Everly, it's the coolest thing ever. Eric didn't take you?"

I bite my lip, thinking of all the other things Eric and I did and all the things we didn't do. Being his only initiate meant I had done whatever he deemed important, and this clearly wasn't one of those things. "No, he didn't mention it. Maybe we didn't have time."

Karl looks at me in disbelief. "You didn't have time? Eric made your training schedule. You must have had some free time at night." He pauses and looks at me. "You can't tell me he made you train all night, too."

"No, we did other things at night." I say the words without thinking, and the look on Karl's face changes abruptly to discomfort.

He fumbles for a second, trying to reply, and I try to save him from making it worse. "I had a lot of reading to do," I tell him, trying not to look him right in the eye. "But anyway, what is zip lining?"

"Are you afraid of heights?" I'm suddenly reminded of how easygoing Karl is. His awkwardness lasts for a mere moment. He resumes walking, and I fall into step next to him. He towers over me the same way Eric does, and for a moment I wonder what Eric is doing. I try to focus back on Karl and the mysterious zip lining.

"No, not really."

"You're so missing out," he announces, but before I can ask Karl anything else about zip lining, something on him beeps, and I realize he's got a phone with him. He answers it briskly, nodding along as he listens to whoever has called him.

"Thank you." He ends the call abruptly, and he calls out to the guards in front of us. "Heads up. We're needed back at Dauntless." He peers over at me, and shrugs apologetically. "Sorry, Everly. I know you were hoping we'd see something cool out here."

He sounds a little bummed out and I shake my head at him. "I'm fine to go back," I tell him, unconcerned by the change in plans. I'm mildly curious what he and the squad are needed for, but my question is answered when a tall man approaches us.

"Kacie need us for the entryway again?" He looks eager, ready for some action after our quiet afternoon.

Karl nods. "Yep. She said the sooner the better."

The man grins at me and motions for the rest of the squad to head over to him. "Then let's head back."

 

 

Half an hour later, we have returned to Dauntless and the trucks come to a grinding halt. I hop out of the truck, relieved when my boots hit the ground. I'm pleased with how well this day has gone. While nothing spectacular has happened, nothing terrible has happened, either. It'll be easier to push for Eric to let me do a little more when I have this outing under my belt and I don't have a scratch on me.

"Everyone but Everly can head back to the break room. We've got new orders coming in," Karl yells out, and I look at him curiously. I was expecting to go with him, and I feel a twinge of disappointment when he tells me Eric has requested that I return to his office.

"Sorry." Karl looks at me, and he chews his cheek for a moment. "But there's no way I'm telling you to ignore orders that come from Eric. I learned my lesson the hard way."

"It's fine," I agree, knowing full well that Karl would do anything rather than return to the third floor daycare. "Thank you for letting me come along with you."

"Anytime, Everly," Karl declares, and I say goodbye to my friend.

 

 

I head to Eric's office, where I'm sure he's impatiently awaiting my return. There's no doubt he's been monitoring the patrol, but I wouldn't expect anything less from him. The inside of Dauntless feels sharply cold in comparison to the outside, and I'm glad for the heavy jacket I have on.

I wave as I pass by Linda. She looks at me inquisitively, but I keep going, walking straight towards Eric's door. I knock once, waiting for the familiar bark before I step into the room. Eric is bent over his desk, his head down as he types away. He doesn't look up, not until I clear my throat and put my hands on my hips.

"Eric."

He looks up slowly, his expression neutral until he finally smiles as though he's pleasantly surprised by my appearance here.

"Everly. Welcome back." He returns his stare to the computer, typing a few more words before he's done. I wait patiently for him to finish; he finally stands up and strides over to me with a serious look on his face. "How did it go?"

"It went fine." I glance up at him, noting the way his gaze is skating over any exposed skin he can find. When he's satisfied with his exam, he moves one hand to reach for me, moving my hair back and off my shoulder.

"I would expect it to have gone well. It seemed rather mundane." He sounds bored by the idea, and I can't imagine Eric out there, regularly walking the streets with a group of soldiers. It would have to be something of the utmost importance for him to partake in such a task.

"It was really interesting to see what they do on a daily basis," I inform him, trying to ignore the feeling of his fingers stroking the skin on my neck. He's grazing the skin below my ear, and his eyes flash to mine.

"I suppose," he answers lazily as he steps closer, narrowing the distance between us. My heart quickens unexpectedly; even after all this time of being married to him, he still has the ability to make me feel like it's the first time he's ever touched me. "You didn't find anything?" he asks, smiling widely. "Or anyone?"

"No. But I didn't think we would," I answer honestly. I wasn't expecting to see anyone during the patrol, especially not when we were so close to Dauntless. Thought not all of the factionless sided with Evelyn, they aren't stupid enough to fuck around with the Dauntless guards. Coming too close to the faction, especially now, would mean being shot for sure.

"Hmmm." Eric has little interest in my answer; his fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck, winding around until I crane my head up at him.

"So, it should be fine if I'm ever asked to go again, because I did really well," I continue on. Eric's grip in my hair tightens, his displeasure immediately apparent.

"No."

"Yes," I challenge him, and I smile despite the sudden flash of annoyance crossing his face. "Karl said I could be helpful since I might see something they wouldn't normally notice."

Eric looks at me piercingly, his features finally rearranging into a heavy smirk. "I'm sure Karl would find it very helpful if you tagged along on all his patrols." He emphasizes Karl's name and I roll my eyes.

"Don't be mean." I put one hand up on his jacket, and my fingers curl into the fabric, yanking him closer. "Besides, he's a really great leader of his patrol squad."

Eric snorts in response, his face becoming unimpressed once again. "Fantastic for him."

It's the last thing he says before he kisses me, and I forget all the other reasons I'd thought of for going along with the patrols.

 

 

Max is pleased.

He reclines back in his desk chair, idly tapping away at the tablet in front of him. I sit quietly beside Eric, toying with the phone in my hand. He called us both into his office a few hours after my return, but I'm not sure what he wants.

He's silent as he works, and I know that Eric would normally be irritated at this surprise meeting, except that he's quickly typing away on his phone, too. I glance out of the corner of my eye, and I can make out Rylan's name. And the words 'fuck' and 'no'.

He keeps typing even after Max looks up and smiles.

"You did a great job out there, Everly," he announces, and I smile back.

"I didn't really do much. I just went along with them." I don't feel like I should be celebrated for something the squads do every day. Were I not in the position I'm in, that very well could have been my regular assignment. "But I did enjoy the experience."

Max grins, and he looks all too happy with my words.

"Good." He crosses one leg over the other, and he glances at Eric for a split second. "You'll be joining two more in the next couple of weeks or so. One near section three, and one near the border of section five."

Before I can figure out how I feel about this news, Eric sits upright as though he's been hit with a jolt of electricity. "No. She doesn't need to go on any more patrols. Especially not section five."

Of course.

I turn my head at him, frowning my irritation. We had just talked about my helping Karl, and I had told him I was fine to go along. I don't see any reason that I shouldn't go.

But I don't need to worry.

"This is an order. Section five is fairly close to where she was taken. We want Everly's opinion on whether things look different at all. There is a small group of factionless that's been spotted there off and on. You yourself pushed for an extra patrol over there, and I've made the decision to send her with them." Max says his words easily, and he reaches for his coffee. "She'll be of great help even if they find nothing."

"Are you fucking insane?" Eric snarls. If he weren't speaking to Max, I'd expect him to leap across the table and grasp him by the throat. "You want her to go back to where Colton dragged her out of here? You think I'd let her go there?"

"All leaders are required to complete three separate patrols. That's an abysmally low number for someone who should have an impressive knowledge of the area. In fact, she needs to have a complete understanding of how to run a patrol squad if the need should arise. While I'm well aware of the situation regarding her abduction, she's to complete both patrols within the next few weeks."

Eric's hands ball into fists.

"She'll be fine," Max speaks slowly, ignoring the fact that Eric's jaw is now clenched tightly enough to snap. "She'll be with a well-trained patrol squad. She'll be armed. It'll be good for the both of you." He stares at Eric pointedly, and I know in this moment Max is exerting his authority over him.

"Okay," I tell Max, and Eric's head whips around towards me. His eyes widen, not in surprise, but because he knows he has no say in this one. He stays silent for a few moments, and I can see him thinking this over. The office is uncomfortably quiet until he speaks.

"Fine." He says the word with distaste, but he shockingly doesn't argue any further.

Max raises his eyebrow at him, and he closes out whatever he's been working on. "And Eric, one more thing."

Eric cocks his head at him, a slow grimace working its way across his face.

"This time you're not to call the patrol squad back early."

 

 

"You called back the patrol squad?" I want to shriek the words at him, but I say them quietly as he all but shoves me into the elevator. I watch him push the button for floor nine, and I have a feeling our workday is now officially over. "Really? Was that necessary?"

"Was it necessary that you return for further training?" He stares at me like I'm insane, and he nods his head. "It was."

"And what continued training are we doing?" I ask him huffily. I cross my arms and stare at him, trying hard to keep an annoyed expression on my face.

"You'll see." His answer is short, and I keep my mouth shut until I realize he's storming towards his apartment. He flings the door open and I follow after him, eyeing him carefully. I half expect him to throw a fit, and I mentally prepare myself for the fight that's coming. While I don't love the idea of revisiting any place near where Evelyn has been, I want to know everything I can about the job I'm being trained to do. I had no idea I was supposed to be able to lead one of the patrols.

I follow Eric into the bedroom, watching him shrug off his jacket and kick off his boots. He flops onto the bed and he slings one arm over his eyes. "Come lay down."

"Why?" I ask him, incredibly suspicious of why he suddenly wants us to take a nap.

"Because this day has given me a headache and it'll feel better if you lay here and not try to persuade me that you're fine to go on these patrols. I don't care how wonderful of a patrol leader Karl is."

A smile crosses my face. In an unusual turn of events, Eric looks defeated. The feeling is one that is probably unfamiliar to him, and I know he's struggling with the realization that there's nothing he can do to change Max's mind. And he knows it.

I climb onto the bed next to him, unlacing my own boots and kicking them off. I move to put my head on his chest, and he relaxes at the contact, then pulls me snugly into his arms. He needs this, I realize.

I do, too.

 

 

Three days later, Eric sits with his back against the wall of the train, and I sink down beside him, stretching my legs out. The train is quiet except for the howl of the wind, and I'm reminded of the last time we were together on a train. With Landon. I close my eyes and banish the memory, determined to let myself enjoy the peacefulness. He reaches for my hand, taking my fingers in his own, and examines them carefully.

"Where are we going?" I ask curiously. I shift closer to him, and he smirks.

"You don't get to know. That would ruin the surprise," he answers, pulling me closer to him. "You'll have fun. I promise."

"Okay," I answer, and his smile is unusually wide and happy.

"Trust me."

I raise an eyebrow in response.

After some time he pulls us to our feet, urging me towards the door. The train is moving much faster than before, and I'm suddenly nervous about jumping out in the dwindling afternoon light. As if Eric can sense my hesitation, he reaches for me, holding onto my hand, and speaks commandingly.

"Let's go."

We jump together, landing harder than I'd anticipated, and I stumble for a second. He catches me easily, keeping me upright as I take in my surroundings. From the looks of it, he's brought us north to a section of the city that's abandoned. I take in the empty buildings before me, dark and silent.

"What are we doing here?" I ask him, more confused than ever. Early this morning, he told me we had plans, but he didn't elaborate. Now, I catch sight of the Hancock building ahead, and I peer up at its towering height. It seems to disappear into the sky, and I can't quite make out the top floor.

"Eric! Everly!" I hear our names shouted as we draw closer, and I turn towards the sound. I'm surprised to find Jason and Rylan here, along with Christina and a few others with whom I'm vaguely familiar. "We've been waiting."

Rylan grins at us as we walk towards the group. They are standing in front of what used to be large glass doors, now just empty panes. The glass shards crunch as each of us steps over them. They reintroduce themselves quickly, and I try to remember their names: Zeke, Uriah, Shauna, and a girl that looks somewhat familiar. It takes her a minute to introduce herself as Megan, and she nervously hangs back by Jason.

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask them, glancing around. I can see a few more of their friends that I don't really know milling around, and everyone seems eager to get going.

"Well, we heard how you've missed out so far on one very important part of being a member of Dauntless," Jason declares loudly, pausing while Eric snorts beside me. "So we decided we'd all come and experience this with you."

Before I can ask any more questions, I'm gently shoved forward by Eric.

"This way," Rylan yells out, grabbing hold of Christina's hand. She glances upward, turning to me and motioning for me to follow her.

"You guys coming?" she asks. "You're going to love it."

I glance up at Eric and smile sweetly. "You didn't invite Four and Tris?"

Eric rolls his eyes and recoils a bit, as if I've asked him if he'd like to move in with them. "Stiff Number One politely declined. Claimed he had to work. Tris said she wasn't feeling up to it, but that she'll come with you some other time if you want to go again."

Christina interrupts him, frowning at what she's just overhead. "I've never seen Four do this, so that's no big surprise. But Tris? She loves this!"

Eric nudges me forward, keeping his expression neutral. "What a shame. Are you ladies ready? There's only one way up." He points towards the elevator and I turn to look at him.

"Are we going to the top?" I ask him, and a flicker of excitement runs through me. Eric had given in to my persistent questions and reluctantly explained what Karl had been talking about. I'd been too interested to feel annoyed that he hadn't taken me. And now that we are here, surrounded by our friends, I'm finally able to put it all together.

"Where else would we go?" he teases, and we file into the elevator behind everyone else. Jason and Rylan are back to shoving each other, arguing over whether or not the generator will stay on long enough for us to reach the top.

"You idiots made sure to turn it on in advance, right?" Eric asks them.

Rylan snickers. "I did. This one overslept." He pushes Jason into Megan, who he'd brought along with him, and punches the button for the top floor. His eyes flash to mine and he smiles widely. "You better hold on, Everly."

A few minutes later my stomach is in my throat. The elevator is faster than I could have ever imagined, much faster than the one in the Hub. It zooms upward in an unrelenting manner, nearly pushing me off balance. I'm holding onto Eric tightly, my nails digging into his skin, but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps me pressed against him until the doors open with a loud ding.

We step out into a dark room, the only light coming from a gaping hole in the ceiling. I watch as Zeke grabs a ladder from somewhere, propping it up against the edge of the hole. He scales it easily, not at all bothered by the fact that it's not very steady-looking and seems like it could fall to the wayside at any moment.

"You're next," Eric announces, walking me forward. I glance up at Zeke, and he waves from the roof. Eric has crouched down to hold the ladder, and he leans in as I step onto the first rung. "See you at the top, Amity."

Eric hums the words in my ear, grinning at me as I easily climb upwards.

 

I watch, unable to tear my eyes away from everyone in front of me.

Jason and Rylan are helping Christina get ready to hurl herself off the very top of this building. I watch her climb into the black sling, and the two of them help strap her into place. She seems nervous, but mostly excited. Then Zeke counts down quickly, pulling her back and finally letting her go to slide headfirst into the windy, twilight nothingness.

"When can I go?" I turn to Eric, my fingers still laced through his, and he smiles. There are a few people loosely queued up ahead of me. I vaguely recognize them as friends of Rylan and Jason. I don't know them all that well, but I've seen them around. They all smile at me, but their attention is clearly focused on what we are about to do.

"You aren't scared?" he asks me, tightening his grip on my hand. I briefly wonder if Eric is afraid of heights, but he doesn't seem to be afraid of anything.

"No. It looks really fun," I tell him, tugging him forward. Rylan is peering over the edge of the building, checking to see how far Christina has gone. The cable extends farther than I can see, and I wonder what's at the bottom.

I wait impatiently, watching until the only people left are Zeke, Jason, Rylan, and Eric. Eric kisses me quickly before he helps me climb into the sling, and I swallow down the last few nerves that pop up. They pull back the sling, and I catch sight of the dizzying view of the city tilting before me.

I barely hear them count down to zero, Eric's voice rich in my ear, and then they let me go.

I slide headfirst into the wind, the city melting around me as I fall forward, the setting sun hovering just above the horizon as I hurtle along.

For a moment I feel as though my insides might break free; the sudden incline is sharp, and my stomach drops in a spectacular fashion. But after that, there is nothing but pure delight. I can barely make out the contours of the city as I find myself flying along, careless and free. I suddenly wonder if this was what I had been seeking all along, to be weightless and alive, skirting over the city with my heart ramming against my ribs.

I raise my head against the sharp wind, and my eyes land again on the rapidly darkening sky. It reminds me of Eric; a messy swirl of pale colors bleeding into a darker shade that soon will encompass everything. My thoughts are startled back to reality when the cable drops abruptly, lowering me down by a few dozen feet. The next drop is just as sudden; the rush it gives me burns through my veins.

I wiggle my arms free, trying to remember the instructions I was given. Everything is going by too fast for my liking, and now I know why Karl was so enthusiastic about this. It gives me an invincible feeling, like I could conquer anything and everything.

The cable dips again, flattening out, and I realize I'm nearing the end. I can see a group of Dauntless far ahead of me, standing together, and I know I only have moments left before I'll drop down into their waiting arms.

I hear them yell my name and I grin, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

 

 

My heart is racing, pumping so furiously that I can barely breathe. I untangle myself from everyone's arms, catching sight of the familiar faces of Karl and his friends as I peer up at the cable. I can hear everyone around me buzzing happily, all drunk on the excitement of flying down here.

I can't believe I did it.

I keep my eyes trained on the cable, waiting impatiently until I see the next person zooming downwards. The drop is nowhere near as high as where we left from, in fact, compared to that, it seems like nothing. I catch sight of Eric's sharp blonde hair, and I watch him gracefully detach himself and fall without a second thought. He lands easily and I run towards him, giving him mere seconds to steady himself.

I throw my arms around him, shrieking happily as the adrenaline burns through my system. "You made it!" I kiss him furiously, not bothering to let him answer that there was no doubt that he'd make it. I feel his hands snake around my waist, picking me up, my legs wrapping tightly around his waist. I kiss him repeatedly, liking the way he's laughing — full on, loudly, and happily.

"I take it you liked it," he manages to say, kissing me back just as frantically as I'm kissing him. He smells good, like icy cold air and like the woods. He walks us back a step, ignoring the catcalls from a few of the people around us, before he sets me down.

My cheeks hurt from smiling, so I nod at him, taking his hands in mine.

"Can we do it again?"

 

 

He groans my name from beneath me, one of his hands on my lower back and the other one wrapped behind my neck.

We'd left shortly after Rylan and Jason had joined us at the bottom. The rest had all stayed, debating if they wanted to go again or not. The darkness of night had settled in, and despite my desire to feel the thrilling, weightless, flying sensation again, there was something else I wanted to do even more.

But not out there.

"Had I known you were going to be so excited by it," Eric grunts, his eyes boring into mine, "I would have taken you zip lining much sooner."

I can't help but burst out laughing. I'd had no idea I'd enjoy the zip lining so much; I had found myself so wired from the excitement that I'd practically dragged Eric home and shoved him into our bed. He hadn't protested in the slightest; in fact, he'd quickly lost his clothes and nearly ripped mine off in the process.

"When do most initiates get to go?" I ask him, trying hard to form a coherent thought. He feels far too good to be discussing the training classes right now, but I am curious about his answer.

Eric sits up a bit, pulling me down to him. He kisses me slowly, biting my lip between his teeth. "No idea," he mutters, never stopping his hips from thrusting upward. He suddenly sits up completely, and I recline back a hair, looking up at him. Both of his hands reach into my hair, burying themselves into the messy strands. I hadn't bothered to take it out of the bun I'd put it in. The wind had left it messed up and knotted together, and Eric's actions only tangle it more.

He hisses as I rise up to meet him, my feet grazing the sides of his thighs. Everything about Eric has always seemed strong, and right now is no exception. "Thanks for taking me," I gasp as my thoughts start to become a melty mess. I always find myself lost in him like this, like he's the only person able to make me feel this way.

"You're welcome," he growls. His mouth works down my jaw, kissing the side sloppily, until his teeth scrape over my neck. "Fuck, you feel good." I can tell he's close by the way his thighs tense up, and he holds me firmly in place.

There is nothing that will ever be better than this feeling, being this close to him. There is no one that will ever make me feel so boneless, as though my spine has dissolved into a million blissful pieces, filling me with sparks. His nails dig into my scalp, scratching as he moves against me, claiming me over and over until neither of us can say anything more.

 

 

The second patrol is uneventful.

After two hours of doing nothing but listening to Karl's friends talk about zip lining, I politely excuse myself. They pay little attention to where I go, simply nodding and resuming their discussion of who made it down faster.

I wander a few feet away, more towards the side of the road, and I squint my eyes. I see a squirrel run across the street, and it might just be the highlight of my day.

 

 

The third patrol is on the warmest day of the year so far.

I tug at the collar of my jacket, wishing I'd worn something less heavy. Dauntless doesn't have different uniforms for the summer. The clothes simply get tighter and skimpier, unless you're on patrol. No one forced me to wear the jacket, but it made sense to blend in with all of them.

"Anything in your sector?"

I'm walking beside Karl, listening to him talk happily about a girl he's met. He's supposed to meet her for dinner tonight, and he's so unexpectedly nervous that I find it sweet. I bet the girl will, too. I mean to ask her name, but we're joined by two more guards, all on edge today.

"Not a thing," Karl answers, sounding dejected. We'd been sent to section five, the section Eric had nearly lost his shit over. As soon as we got out of the truck, I understood why. This area of the city is one of the most rundown, and very sketchy. The buildings aren't just decayed and rotting, most are boarded up with heavy pieces of plywood, dark fabrics, and papers. It sent a chill up my spine when I saw them, mostly because I got the distinct impression that there are people living in these buildings.

We're supposed to be looking for a group that's allegedly forming. There's a very quiet rumor that they might know something about Evelyn, but so far there hasn't been a soul in sight. It's frustrating: after everything that's happened, it should be easy to find someone willing to come forward. Evelyn is no great leader, and a few of them have to have realized that by now.

"Let's head to the right." I point to the corner and Karl nods. We've been here for over an hour now, listening to occasional static-y calls come across the phone. We trudge along, trying to stay in the shadows of the buildings, and I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a loud, metallic bang.

Every guard around me draws their gun, aiming at the sound. I reach for mine as well, but stop when I see who it is.

A young patrol squad member stumbles around the corner, a sheepish look on his face.

"Whoa... sorry, guys. I tripped over a trashcan." His name is Neil, and I immediately recognize him from the last training class. He glances at me, an embarrassed redness flushing his face, and I smile at him. His scores were high enough during training that he was able to choose an assignment on one of the more prestigious patrol squads, but his inexperience is glaringly obvious.

"No problem," I tell him, watching everyone relax slightly. They lower their weapons a bit, and glance back at Karl and me.

"I thought I heard footsteps over there," Neil announces, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "But I didn't see anything."

"Great," Karl mutters. He waves all the men to fall back to the sidewalk, and we keep walking. He looks at me, and I nod.

"Show us where you heard the noise," I tell him, and Neil immediately takes off in the direction he came from.

Fifteen minutes later, the only thing we've found is a beat-up trashcan and a dead raccoon.

 

 

The ride back to Dauntless is quiet.

I sit beside Karl, enjoying both the cold air in the truck and the quiet. Today's patrol felt disappointing because I wanted to actually do something productive. I feel like I let everyone down, like I should have been able to find Evelyn, or at least someone who would spill a few details about her. Instead, I'd found only random forest animals, and something told me Eric wouldn't be impressed with that detail.

I watch as the Dauntless compound appears before me, looming large in the distance.

"You okay?" Karl asks. He and I are the only ones in this truck, and I'd appreciated that he was just as distracted as me.

"Yeah, I just wish we knew where Evelyn was hiding. I feel like she's lurking out there, waiting to attack." I slump against the seat. "I feel like I'm letting everyone down."

Karl glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and he frowns. "I don't think you're letting anyone down. Your job isn't to flush her out of wherever she is. For all we know, she's dead."

I let his words sink in for a minute, but they don't make me feel any better.

"I just wish I'd been more helpful," I sigh, and Karl refrains from asking any more questions.

We arrive at Dauntless with little fanfare; Karl drives through the gates, and we are waved through by Peter's squad. They motion for him to park right in front, and he veers sharply to turn around.

"They're gonna take the trucks back out on the next patrol," he announces in response to my curious stare. When he comes to a stop, I shove the heavy door open and slide out.

"Everly," Karl calls, and I stop in my tracks. I glance up at him, and his expression is serious. "Hey, I just want to tell you that you were a lot of help today. I'm glad you got to come along with our patrol again." He says the words earnestly, and I feel much better.

"Thanks, Karl." I smile up at him, happy that he's still my friend.

My smile falters a bit when I see the next patrol squad walking up to the gates. From a distance, they look normal; they are all dressed in dark uniforms, they look slightly sweaty, and most of them have weapons in their hands. But my eye stops on the man towards the back of the group. He lingers behind just enough so as to not draw attention to himself, but there is something odd about his demeanor and his disheveled uniform.

I watch them file through, waved in by a guard who's scanning a badge. The man slips by easily, keeping his head down and closely following behind the guard in front of him.

My mouth falls open, and concern flashes across Karl's face.

"Everly, are you sure you're alright?"

For a moment, I can't speak. The man breaks away from the group, waving a badge at his companions before he splits off in another direction. From where we stand, it would be easy to assume he's simply another soldier rejoining the squad. But I know better.

"No," I blurt out and I take off, sprinting towards the man.

"Everly! The fuck?" I hear Karl yell, and I know he'll be right behind me.

I can feel a burning rush through me as I near the figure, and I try to quickly come up with a plan. "Hey! Stop!" I yell, watching him retreat towards a smaller entrance into the compound. He keeps going, knowing exactly what he's looking for. The loading docks are just around back, and they are unmanned right now.

I can hear Karl yelling my name as I round the corner, but I keep going.

"I said stop!" I yell again, trying to hurry. But he doesn't pay any attention to me; he simply pushes on, and it isn't until I cut him off that he comes to a stop, turning his head to look at me.

"Hi, Everly." He flashes me a smile that makes my spine tingle.

"Stop." Before I can even think, I've drawn the gun Eric gave me, and I aim it directly at him.

Jeremy raises an eyebrow, and very slowly puts both hands up in the air with his palms facing me. He eyes the gun warily, then my hands.

"Hey, how's it going? Nice to see you, too," Jeremy says pointedly, with a hint of nastiness to his tone.

"What are you doing here?" I snap, keeping perfectly still. My heart is beating fast, so loudly I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. Jeremy's reappearance is not a good sign, not at all. I can still remember telling Four that Jeremy was gone, and the way his face had fallen. "Answer me."

"I see Eric's trained you to be an awesome Dauntless security guard." He cocks his head to the side, his tone mocking. "Good to know that was the next step in our training." He takes a slow step closer to me, a grim expression crossing his face.

"Where did you go? Why did you leave?" I hiss at him, standing my ground. He's unimpressed, but he doesn't know what I've been through. There's no way he's taking another step past me.

"Where is your husband? I'm surprised you're out here without him. Though judging by the looks of it, you're still getting to run around Dauntless as you please." He spits the last words and I tighten my grip on the gun.

"Don't come any closer to me," I tell him firmly, watching the way his lips curl up into a sneer. He looks at me like I'm joking, and he rolls his eyes.

"Aren't you even happy to see me? After all those pointless reports we went over together?" His voice sounds normal again, like the same Jeremy who chased after me to ask me all sorts of questions about Dauntless and Eric and Tris.

"I said don't come any closer," I repeat, but he pays no attention to me. I can hear Karl yelling as he rounds the corner, followed by more shouting. Jeremy ignores the commotion, as do I.

"Or what? You'll shoot me? You won't shoot me," he scoffs, staring skeptically at the gun in my hand.

He suddenly moves towards me, lunging for the gun, but he's too late.

I've already squeezed the trigger.


	47. Jeremy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for their really encouraging and awesome reviews. I'm thrilled to find that everyone is still enjoying this story so much. There have been so many positive things written about this story, and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to say them. i'm still stunned how many people follow and favorite this story.
> 
> There are a lot of questions asked that I can't just totally answer, but don't worry, most of them will all be explained in the upcoming chapters. So just hang in there, and more than likely your question will get answered.
> 
> For those who have just started following the story, or just caught themselves up - there are more POVS coming, but Eric's POV won't be one of them. I will post a follow up from his view, one that encompasses what we don't see from Everly's POV. While I agree that it would be cool to see what he's thinking, it won't happen until this story comes to an end. Then he'll get his turn :) All of the other outtakes are posted separately, under The Training Outtakes.
> 
> Thank you so much, BK2U, for helping not only edit this chapter, but collaborating and helping push this plot together. I appreciate you editing this multiple times, including today ;)
> 
> Happy Reading! :)

I steady myself from the recoil, staring directly at Jeremy as he lies on the ground in front of me. He yelps in pain, shocked by what just happened. My ears ring with the echo from the gunshots, and my heart beats wildly.

I try to keep my breathing even, peering down at him to get a better look.

The first bullet hit his left thigh, causing him to crumple as the bullet pierced his skin. But that bullet wasn't mine. My shot, which I aimed at his chest, was thrown off by his sudden movement, and I'm surprisingly disappointed to see that it merely hit him in the right shoulder.

"What the fuck?" His words don't stop me from aiming the gun back at him, this time lower. I've learned my lesson, and this time I will make sure he can't get by me. "You shot me?" he hissed, dragging his eyes away from his leg. "Twice?" I've never been shot before, so I can't attest to the pain, but he looks miserable. For one split second I panic, thinking he'll come after me despite his agony, even angrier than he was before.

He lurches to his feet, straightening up a bit while favoring his left leg, and I prepare to shoot again.

There's a flurry of activity behind me. I can hear running footsteps approaching, skidding in the gravel. Karl stops beside me with his gun drawn. There are more footsteps, followed by a bark of laughter. I badly want to turn around and see who he's brought with him, but I don't want to take my eyes off Jeremy.

"Dude." Karl sounds surprised; he's got his gun aimed at Jeremy. "What the hell?" I can't tell who he's talking to, so I answer anyway.

"He was heading into Dauntless, and he shouldn't be," I announce firmly, still staring at Jeremy. He flinches at my words, but he stays silent.

Karl lowers his gun a fraction of an inch as he takes in the scene before him. "You shot him, too?" Karl questions. He looks at me, his face full of concern, with a hint of panic.

"Of course I shot him," I say loudly. "Why did you shoot him?"

Karl look at me like I'm insane. "Why did I shoot him? He was coming after you!"

"He wasn't coming after me," I protest, standing my ground. Jeremy is watching Karl and me while he tries to stop the blood dripping from his leg. "I can take care of myself. He wasn't getting past me."

Karl shakes his head sympathetically, like I'm a small child who's protesting bedtime. "I shot because I needed to. Everly, we all know what happened the last time someone attacked you."

"What the fuck, Karl?" I hiss at him for even daring to bring that up. I briefly wonder whether I'd get in trouble if I were to shoot him, too. "That wasn't my fault."

"I just don't want to be responsible when you wind up getting kidnapped. Again."

There is a snort of laughter from Jeremy, but before I can glare at him, I'm nearly thrown off balance as someone shoves past me. I catch a glimpse of sharp hair and Eric's stiff uniform. He walks with a lazy sense of purpose, as though Jeremy's reappearance is of no concern to him. He circles around, his face amused as he sizes up the situation.

"Welcome back," Eric announces, his eyes gleaming. He's come to a stop beside Jeremy, and I'm sure he's taken note of the situation in front of him: Karl and I arguing over who should have shot Jeremy, and Jeremy standing unsteadily, in pain from his bullet wounds. "All of you."

Eric reaches forward, roughly grabbing Jeremy's right shoulder. Jeremy lets out a loud yelp when Eric digs his fingers into the raw skin, but Eric doesn't let go.

"Hurts like a bitch, don't it?" Eric sneers at him. "And we don't normally let failed, wanna-be leaders just wander back through here for old times' sake."

"Fuck you," Jeremy grits out, trying to move away from Eric. It's useless, but after a minute Eric lets up on him. Jeremy takes a step back, holding his palms up. "Tell your lap dogs not to shoot again."

Eric looks over to me and there's a flicker of pride in his stare. I did exactly what Eric would have done. I didn't given Jeremy much time to do anything; I didn't wait for him to explain what he was doing here or give him the chance to attack me. It was what Eric had demanded of me — his reminder of what I had been trained to do still fresh in my mind. I didn't hesitate like I did with Landon. I will never again assume that people won't try to kill me for their own gain.

"Hi, Everly." Eric raises an eyebrow at me, and a wide, pleased smile crosses his face. I smile in return, relaxing the slightest bit. If Eric is happy with what I've done, then I know I must have done something right.

"Wait, you failed at being a leader here?" Karl asks, sounding confused. He's still got his gun aimed at Jeremy, and he looks sort of dangerous beside me, despite his confusion about my ability to handle the situation — and his poor timing.

Jeremy scowls at all of us. "I left for a minute, but I'm back now." He straightens up, wincing as he moves his arm in an attempt to relieve the pain. He then presses on his shoulder, grimacing when his fingers come away bloody.

"Why?" Karl demands, leaving my side and moving towards Jeremy. "Why did you come back?" He's pulled himself to his full height, and he stands next to Eric with the same wide stance. He and Eric look like mirror images of each other, and I wonder how long it will be before Karl shaves the sides of his head.

Jeremy sneers at Karl. "Not really your business, now is it?"

"No," Eric snaps, and his eyes darken. "But it is mine."

 

Eric kindly allows Jeremy to be stitched up before he is brought in front of the leaders to explain himself. We wait in the infirmary, sitting in Arlene's office while one of the newest nurses works on him. Every once in a while I can hear him, his shrieks of pain echoing across the room while someone patiently instructs him to hold still.

I sit in one of the large chairs in front of Arlene's desk while Eric sits behind it. He aimlessly rifles through the papers on her desk like he owns the place, his face clouding when Molly appears. She looks nervous at the sight of him, large and imposing, holding up a fistful of folders that she's probably worked hard on.

"Yes?" Eric snarls, staring up at her. I'd only recently learned that Molly had been in one of his initiate classes, the same one as Tris and Christina. Christina had told me Eric didn't much care for Molly — mostly because he didn't like anyone — and that she'd been ruthless. But now, staring at him from across the room, she looks like she could throw up.

"He wants me to tell you that he demands to see Max." Molly says the words carefully, trying to keep them from sounding like they are her own. She's probably wishing she was doing anything other than delivering this news to Eric. But he's utterly unimpressed, especially by the demands of someone so beneath him.

"Oh, he'll see Max," Eric throws back casually. "Where does he think we're taking him? On a tour of the kitchens?"

Molly blinks at him. "I really don't think he's going to talk to you."

Eric sneers at her, indifferent as ever. "It's not really up to him, now is it?"

I watch as Molly shifts nervously. I want to tell her to relax, that Eric's annoyance isn't aimed at her, but I don't get the chance to.

"Let me know when he's done." Eric dismisses her with a wave of his hand and turns his attention back to the files he was reading. He smiles widely, looking delighted at whatever he's just found. "Now, did you enjoy your patrol today?"

I smile back, wondering just what he's trying to distract me with. "It was fine. I found Jeremy," I point out. Before he can respond, the door flies back open. I prepare myself for Arlene; instead, Karl marches in, his face set in a stern frown, and he points his finger right at me.

"Everly." He says my name loudly, and Eric and I both turn to look at him. "You can't seriously be mad at me that I tried to help you out there." He sounds irritable, and I immediately feel defensive, even though I know he means well.

"I'm not mad. I just didn't need you interrupting me," I tell him, staring up at him. I won't have him thinking I can't handle this sort of situation. I lean back in the chair, turning my stare to Eric. I wait for him to murder Karl for interrupting us, but he's looking at him curiously. He doesn't come to my defense like I thought he would, so I keep going.

"I also didn't appreciate you acting like I couldn't take care of it."

Karl narrows his eyes. "Interrupting you? I wasn't interrupting you. I was making sure you stayed alive." He crosses his arms, and he makes a face that I swear I've seen on Eric before. It takes me a second to realize it's exasperation. "And I didn't want to come around the corner to find that he'd attacked you."

For some reason, his words hit a nerve with me. I stand up and put my hands on my hips. "I was fine. Everyone needs to stop jumping to my defense. I had the situation under control and you knew it."

Karl looks indignant and he raises both eyebrows at me. "You had it under control? He was about to charge at you. He could have had a weapon on him."

"I had a gun aimed directly at him. He wasn't going to get very far," I respond through gritted teeth. I'm still waiting for Eric to jump to my defense, to tell Karl to chill or get out of this office, but when I look back at him, he looks highly amused.

"He was about to knock you down. I was saving you. Last time I didn't act when I had the chance, and you got kidnapped and almost murdered. I'm not about to let that happen again," he declares, and I stare at him silently. I don't really have a response to that, so I stand there for a minute, trying to think of something to prove him wrong.

I have nothing.

"I don't need anyone else to save me. I can save myself," I protest, and this time I swear Eric makes a coughing sound like he's trying not to laugh. I want to glare at him, but Karl reaches for me, his hand grabbing my elbow.

"Everly, no offense but you are not very scary. No one would think you'd stop them from doing anything." He says the words kindly, laced with some sort of sympathy, and he looks at Eric. "I had orders to keep you safe. There's no way I would go against them."

Of course he did.

I shrug away from him, and decide to wait until later to deal with Eric.

"Orders or not, I was fine. And you shouldn't have shot him while I was shooting him." I say the words with great annoyance. For the first time since I was handed the gun, I felt like I'd done something with purpose. I defended myself and I helped keep Jeremy from whatever the fuck he was doing. But it was starting to seem like no one could see that except for me.

"Everly, why are you so gun-happy? Does it really matter who shot him?" Karl looks concerned and I nod my head yes.

"I should have been the one to shoot him since I was the one that saw him. I chased him and was in the middle of confronting him when you showed up," I insist.

"You were both right," Eric finally announces, standing up from behind Arlene's desk. "Everly, you were right to shoot him, and Karl…" Eric pauses and looks right at him. "You were right to follow orders regarding Everly and to come to the defense of the faction. So, thank you both."

Karl does a double take, looking back at Eric in shock. I can count on one hand the number of times Eric has ever thanked anyone. Thanking Four was likely the first, and now Karl might just be the second.

"Uh, you're welcome, sir." Karl fumbles with the words for a moment, then straightens himself back up. "Glad to be of service. And I'm glad you're okay, Everly."

I stare at him, my eyes wide, and I manage to nod.

Eric strolls over to me, stopping beside me to smile tightly at Karl. "I'll see you in a few days for your meeting." He dismisses Karl, watching him head back into the infirmary.

"Everly," Eric starts to say something, but I cut him off. I cross my arms in front of my chest and I make sure I'm looking right at him.

"I didn't need him — or you — to help me," I inform him. I sound defiant, all because of stupid Jeremy and his stupid face wandering back in here. "I was fine."

"I know." Eric closes the distance between us, and he reaches for me. I drop my crossed arms immediately, reaching to move them around his waist. I forget all about his snickering at my argument with Karl when I'm pressed up against him. "I know you were fine. Karl was still on patrol. There's no reason he wouldn't have helped go after Jeremy."

"And I can be scary. People should know what I'm capable of," I tell him, ignoring the smirk on his face. He brushes my bangs out of my eyes and keeps his fingers in my hair.

"Right. You're terrifying," he agrees, and I can't help but scowl at him.

"Eric," I say warningly, but he's still too amused for my liking.

"No one is going to take me seriously if you keep making sure I'm fine." I try to reason with him, but one of his hands has moved to my back, his fingers skimming over the heavy fabric of the jacket. He's looking at me intensely, mentally debating something.

"I'm not going to tell them they should allow you not tobe fine," he says very seriously, and he tilts my head up to look at him. "You handled Jeremy perfectly. I don't think anyone here doubts what you are capable of."

For the first time since meeting him, I think Eric might be wrong. I'm pretty sure there are plenty of people who think that all I'm good for is being Eric's wife. Training the initiate classes had been a huge step away from Eric, one that I was proud of. Helping defend Dauntless was another. But none of it will matter if Eric keeps hovering around every corner.

"Everly, don't worry about it. Everyone knows you were the one who went after Jeremy. No one thinks Karl bailed you out except for you. In fact, the whole squad was impressed that you were the one who recognized him." He says the words into my hair, and I close my eyes. It would be nice to stay here, just like this, with my head on his chest, for the rest of the day.

"Okay," I finally relent, and Eric relaxes slightly.

Eric keeps his hands on me, still on my back. "I'm proud of how you handled him, Amity."

His words make me feel warm all over. Even during my training, he rarely told me he was proud of me. Back then, I'd had to quickly learn to read the small visual clues he'd give me. Sometimes he'd nod in my general direction, or he'd look less annoyed than normal. One time he told me 'good job'. So today's words from him make me feel accomplished and Dauntless, especially after I'd done nothing to stop Landon.

"Thanks. But I shot him without any real reason. Won't I be in trouble for that?" I ask, leaning back to look up at him. I've been sitting here trying to think of a good reason to explain why I shot him, other than just feeling it was wrong that he was suddenly back, trying to sneak in unnoticed.

"He came after you. He would have taken you down to get back into Dauntless. You protected your faction. Why would you be in trouble?" Eric blinks at me, saying the words seriously.

I nod at him, and his eyes search mine. I still feel a little rattled from shooting Jeremy. He's the second person I've shot, but it wasn't any easier this time. My hands still feel a little shaky, probably from the rush of adrenaline.

"I didn't want him to come back into Dauntless," I tell him honestly, and Eric nods.

"You did the right thing. I'm sure once we talk to him, his reasons for being here won't be enough to justify his waltzing through the gates without being shot."

"But how will we get him to talk?" I ask him curiously. While Jeremy's actions have been shady, leaving his post and abandoning his faction, he still hasn't committed any actual crime that I know of. I simply shot him on the hunch that he was up to no good, especially as he lunged towards me. But I can't fathom a way of making him spill where he's been.

But I do know that Eric almost always gets what he wants.

He looks delighted at my question. He smiles as a male nurse appears, announcing that Jeremy is done. The guy glances at us quickly, his stare lingering on Eric's hands on me before he scampers away.

Eric lets go for a brief second, and he looks devilishly handsome as he declares gleefully, "We have ways of making him talk."

 

 

For a quick moment, I think that Eric might torture Jeremy. My mind conjures up all kinds of things he could do to him: make him run endless laps, hang him over the chasm with the promise of death if he doesn't spill his secrets, or maybe even give him some sort of terrible assignment worse than the daycare center.

I try to think of something, the worst thing Eric could do to him.

But I can't think of anything that seems appropriate.

I walk alongside Eric as we march Jeremy to a meeting room. I know exactly where we're going; I've sat in on countless meetings here, and so has Jeremy. The room is already full of people, and they turn their heads to catch sight of their wayward member as he's shoved into the first available chair.

I glance around, surprised at the amount of people crowded in here.

Jason and Rylan are standing against the wall, watching Jeremy with dark eyes. For once, their faces are grim, masking their normally cheery expressions. Tori and Harrison sit with their arms crossed, Max is irritably drinking coffee, and there are even more members crammed into the room: Karl, a few members of his patrol squad, plus several men with whom Jeremy had walked into the compound. A large man named Quinten who usually works in the kitchens is clearly here to stand by the door and make sure Jeremy has no way to escape.

And Arlene.

Of course Arlene would be here.

She steps beside me, taking me by the elbow, and walks me over to an empty seat beside Tori. I watch as Eric approaches Max; they begin to confer, but it's Eric who is talking the most forcefully, seemingly trying to convince Max of something.

"Had you hit him where you were aiming, he would have been in a heap of trouble," Arlene announces, taking the seat beside me. I turn to look at her, and she's smiling. "Well done."

"Thanks," I tell her, not sure if that's a good thing or not.

"Eric was delighted you shot him." Arlene reclines back in her chair, crossing her legs. Her dark scrubs are covered in blood, and I can only imagine what she was doing before she got here. "Are you doing alright?"

I look up in surprise. No one is really paying attention to us. Everyone is angrily discussing why they think Jeremy is back, and Eric and Max are still in their deep discussion. I can tell Eric is winning because he looks pleased, and then he suddenly grins.

"What do you mean?" I ask her, leaning towards her.

"Eric was worried about you," she answers casually, and her eyes flash to my husband. He's still grinning, and I know Jeremy is in for it now. "He worries about you a lot. I'm honestly surprised he didn't try to overthrow Max for making you go on those patrols."

"I wanted to go on them," I tell her, but I can't deny the warm feeling that her words bring up. There's something about Eric being worried that makes me want to drag him out of this room and back to our apartment.

"I know you did. But you know there are other patrols, right? Less dangerous ones. Eric knew you could handle where you were going, even if he didn't want you to go." Arlene is speaking quietly, and it's obvious he mentioned to her where I was sent on patrol.

"He's very proud that you shot Jeremy. I think he rather enjoyed it." Arlene grins at me and I can't help but smile back at her. "I would have shot the fucker myself had he made it anywhere near me."

Our conversation is interrupted by Max clearing his throat, and the room falls silent. All eyes turn to Jeremy; he's no longer bleeding, but he does look rather uncomfortable. A quick glance around the room tells me he should be. There really isn't anywhere for him to look to get away from the prying stares of everyone in the room.

"I'm sure we all have a few questions," Max announces, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "And I know you have a few answers for us." The room is still and silent as everyone waits, but Jeremy sits there with his mouth clamped shut.

Eric paces behind Jeremy with his hands clasped behind his back. He waits for Jeremy to speak, and I have the sudden, strange, and terrible feeling that Jeremy will get off scot-free. That maybe there's a very valid reason he disappeared from Dauntless, and that it'll be revealed that I shot him for no reason. If that's the case, at least Karl's going down with me.

I glance at Karl, noting he wears the same serious expression as everyone else.

The room stays silent, and it feels oppressive as the minutes tick by.

I start to grow impatient; a hot, nervous feeling works through me until Jeremy finally speaks.

"I don't owe all of you an explanation. Some of you, yes. But all of you..." He glances around the room, making sure to look at each and every single one of us in here. "No."

"Why did you leave? The timing of your departure was just a little too convenient for my liking." Eric sounds patient, and if I were Jeremy, I'd feel unnerved. This isn't Eric's normal tone, and Jeremy has been around Eric enough to know it.

"I had some business to take care of. None of which concerns you." Jeremy doesn't look at Eric, and instead, he keeps his stare on the desk.

Frustration works its way up my spine. I can tell this is going nowhere. He could very well have a fantastic reason for leaving, and while something tells me that's not the case, there's no way of proving it. He's not gonna spill where he went, and he certainly won't do it here, in front of all these people.

"Shouldn't you have told one of us where you were going off to? You were right in the middle of a leadership program. You abandoned your position without warning," Max reprimands him from beside Eric. He doesn't look terribly pleased. For once he looks more irritated than Eric, and he leans over Jeremy to add with a growl, "You left with a head full of information that isn't supposed to leave here."

Jeremy shakes his head and turns his stare directly at me. He looks at me intensely, like he's trying to figure something out. His stare doesn't go unnoticed by Eric, who takes a step closer to him.

"Personal reasons. But I'm back now, and I'd like the opportunity to help you out," Jeremy says firmly, his stare still on me.

The room stays silent.

Those very words might be his undoing. They are weighted and heavy in the air, and no one speaks for a long time. It's obvious Jeremy wants to bargain for something, but he needs more leverage. And for someone to bite.

Eric's jaw tenses, and I know right then and there that Jeremy knows more than he's letting on. More than he'll willingly tell if he's left to his own confession. Max and Eric share a quick look and Eric nods after a beat.

"I don't think we need your help. We've managed to do just fine without you," he announces, his words easy and bright. "But don't worry. We won't make you talk just yet."

Jeremy turns to look at Eric, his expression unreadable. Beside me, Arlene shifts in her seat, stifling a snort.

"This should be fun." She says the words so only I can hear them, and I turn to look at her curiously. The rest of the room is starting to protest Eric's lack of action. Jason is muttering something that sounds like 'what the fuck', and Tori stands up from her chair.

"We don't have all day, Eric," she snaps.

"I do," Harrison volunteers, reclining back in his seat. "Max, make some more coffee."

Behind him, Rylan makes a noise of disgust and shakes his head.

"Just 'fess up, motherfucker. It's Taco Tuesday. No one wants to stay here all day while you refuse to tell us where your sorry ass went." Rylan peers up from his phone and scowls. "I'm not missing out on the one day we have edible food around here just because you decided to take a field trip without telling anyone."

Quinten throws him a dirty look, but he stays silent, shifting his weight in front of the door.

"Is there a point to all of this, or are we just hanging out in here all day?" Jason asks wearily. On the one hand, this is the kind of excitement he really enjoys, but on the other, this could take forever, and I'm guessing he has plans for a hookup with Megan later.

Eric puts his hand on Jeremy's shoulder, the one where I shot him, and he turns to Tori and smiles. "Call Jack. Tell him we need his help." Jeremy winces as Eric's grip tightens before he finally lets go.

Tori is quiet until she suddenly grins. "Perfect," she responds, taking a step back. I watch her reach for her phone as she exits the room, and I turn my gaze back to the man across from me.

He doesn't look nervous, but if I were Jeremy, I'd start being afraid right about now.

 

"This way."

Eric pulls me out of the conference room with him, barking orders at everyone to keep Jeremy in the room at all costs. He promises everyone no more than an hour, tops, though I'm not sure I believe him. But I follow after him, walking down the hallway, peering up at him when he stops in front of his office door and unlocks it.

"Will this really take an hour?" I ask him. "And is it really Taco Tuesday?"

Eric shakes his head as we enter, closing the door behind us. "Not even close. Once Jack gets here, it'll be fairly quick."

"Eric, why are all those people sitting in on that meeting? Shouldn't it be just the leaders in there? Should I even be in there?" I was confused by everyone that had shown up to the meeting, but Eric didn't seem fazed.

"They're all necessary in one way or another. The only one you wouldn't know is Quinten. But he's there more for intimidation than anything else." Eric backs me up a step until I'm against the wall. He reaches forward to push the hair off my shoulder. His actions are slow, purposeful, and he takes a step closer, bending his head down.

"He's going to reveal some shitty information. Just be prepared." Eric says the words quietly, and his nose brushes against mine. "Just sit there and listen, and know that he'll be taken care of."

I want to ask Eric how he knows this, but he kisses me, insistently and fiercely. One of his hands slides into my hair, yanking hard on the ponytail I'd thrown it into. My heart skips a beat when he keeps kissing me, pushing himself closer to me.

"Eric." I gasp for air, and he gives me mere seconds before he kisses me again, both hands on either side of my head. I lose track of time, leaving me lost in Eric until I can barely breathe.

Eric's phone suddenly buzzes, and he breaks apart triumphantly and smirks. Glancing down at the screen, I can see there's a message from Linda.

"We need to head back," he announces lazily, his eyes still on my mouth.

I try to slow my breathing down from his attack. I brush my hair out of my eyes, hoping it doesn't look like a complete disaster from his rough grip. I attempt to fix it for a second, finally giving up.

"Okay." I smile, reaching for his hand.

Eric smiles down at me, his fingers sliding between my own.

"And Everly?"

I look up at him, noting the glint in his eyes.

He leans down, his lips skimming my ear as he hums lowly.

"It is Taco Tuesday."

 

 

"It's nice to see you again, Everly."

Jack Kang stands before us, looking slightly out of place. I take a moment to stare at him. His voice is deep, but it lacks any real warmth. He smiles at me, sort of, extending his hand until he can shake mine firmly. "You look well."

"Thank you. It's great to see you, too," I answer, smiling back at him. He is tall and tan, dressed in a sharp black suit and a white shirt. I let go of his hand as Eric and Max approach him, and wonder why he is here. I had meant to ask Eric during our break, but he'd had other ideas on how to spend our time.

"Thank you for your assistance in this matter," Eric greets him stoically, not bothering with a proper greeting. He stops next to him, motioning towards the conference room door. "He's in there. I'm hoping we can wrap this up in the next half hour."

Jack nods. "Of course. And if any relevant information comes up, you're prepared to put him on trial?"

Eric nods. "Yes."

"Good. And you'll bring him to Candor? You know that we will provide the most unbiased trial for him, should he confess to violations of your factional rules," Jack continues on, looking directly at Eric. I wait while Eric nods slightly, his expression rather composed for someone who'd been kissing me furiously just moments ago.

"What exactly do you think he's going to confess to?" I ask them, pulling on the sleeve of my jacket. Outside, I'd been overly warm, but inside Dauntless it is freezing.

"We're about to find out." Max motions for us to follow him in, and there's no time for Eric to answer my question. I file into the conference room, noting it's been cleared out except for Arlene, Harrison, Tori, Jason, and Rylan. Four is here now, his head bent down as he and Rylan watch something on a laptop. He points at the screen, frowning along with Rylan. He looks up when I walk in, nodding hello at me as I take the seat next to Rylan.

Eric and Max walk towards Jeremy, and Eric glances briefly at Harrison.

"Anything come up while we were gone?" Eric asks. He stops behind Jeremy, allowing Jack to step to the side of him.

"Not a thing. Four and Rylan pulled all the footage you asked for, but other than that… silence," Harrison announces, leaning back. "Whenever you're ready, we're good to go. Jeremy here has given his wordless agreement that this will be necessary."

"Alright, then. We'll get this over with so we can all go back to our business." Eric is addressing Harrison mostly, but everyone in the room nods. I keep my eyes on Jack, noticing the syringe in his hand. I watch him insert it into a tiny glass bottle of cloudy blueish liquid, and he pulls back once the syringe is full.

"Jeremy."

Eric says his name and Jeremy jerks his head back attempting to see what's going on. Eric grasps his head, forcing it to the side and holding it in place.

"May the truth set you free." With his words, Jack slides the needle into Jeremy's exposed neck. He injects the liquid slowly until the syringe is empty. Eric lets go of Jeremy's head with a sneer, and steps back.

Jack sets the vial down to the side of Jeremy, and takes a step away from the table.

I lean towards Arlene, elbowing her until she looks at me.

"What is that?" I whisper. I'm well-versed in some of the serums, especially Amity's peace serum. I know we use one here for the fear simulations, and I'm well aware of the one Evelyn injected into my neck in hopes of making me permanently forget everything. But I've never seen this one before.

"Truth serum," Arlene answers quietly, and I look at her curiously. "It makes it painful for him to do anything but tell the truth."

I nod and glance back at Jeremy, watching his face to see what will happen next. The room is silent while everyone waits, and I shift anxiously in my seat.

The serum works almost instantly.

Jeremy shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it, then he rubs at the spot on his neck. "What did you give me?" He sounds confused, and he looks over to me. "I can't remember what I was thinking about." He spaces out for a second, and I watch as his eyes focus again.

"Good," Eric snaps. "Now, why did you leave Dauntless in the middle of your leadership program?" Eric's question seems loud in the quiet room, echoing in the silence. Jeremy tries to steel himself, his spine straightening up for a split second.

But then his body slumps forward.

"To go see Evelyn." The words spill out of Jeremy's mouth, and his eyes widen as his hand flies upwards. Everyone in the room leans forward, including me. My heart pounds at the mention of her name, and I have the triumphant — yet sickening — feeling that I was right to think he was up to no good.

"Why would you go see Evelyn?" Eric asks darkly.

Jeremy grits his teeth. He's trying hard to resist answering, but it appears to be painful. "To help her."

"How did you know where she was?" Eric inquires, his voice lethal. His posture has changed, becoming more intense. He stalks back and forth behind him, and I don't doubt he's seconds away from punching Jeremy.

Jeremy clenches his jaw shut in an attempt to stop the words, but it's useless. "I followed Four one day, and he led me straight to her."

I try not to look over at Four. I can remember cornering him once, demanding to know why I hadn't seen him around Dauntless, and his quick dismissal that he'd been busy. And he had been busy. I learned later that he'd been busy covering his tracks while leaving Dauntless to go see his mother, but apparently not well enough.

"Why?" Eric snaps.

"I wanted to see where he was going. I found out who she was, why she was there. I liked her ideas, I liked what she stood for. He was stupid to not want to help her." He all but hisses the words, and he looks pained.

"Four?" Max prompts. "Four was stupid to not help Evelyn?"

Four's fingers are frozen over the laptop, hovering in place. His eyes are narrowed, and he waits for Jeremy's answer.

Jeremy slumps forward again, gripping his hair in his hands. "Yes. He visited her a few times, helped some of her people learn to defend themselves. Then he realized what she really wanted from him. He refused to help her after that."

Max and Eric exchange a surprised look. Jeremy's words have taken them aback, considering both men thought that Four was the traitor who had trained Evelyn's army.

"What did Evelyn want you to do?" Eric's words are so sharp I can feel them from where I'm sitting.

I wait for his answer. All I can think of is Four's mother. When I first awoke among the factionless, she tried to paint herself as someone who had looked out for him. She tried to make it seem like leaving him behind was the best decision she could have made for him. She certainly never checked in on him, never bothered to see if he was okay. I quickly realized she was no better than Jeanine, just a whole different type of monster lurking in the shadows.

There is a current of unease that runs through the room, winding around everyone sitting at the table.

Jeremy stays silent as long as he can, but eventually the serum wins out. "She wanted me to manipulate some things here in Dauntless in order to drive her son back to her. She needed him."

Four's hands clench into fists.

"Why?" The word flies from my mouth as if I'm the one who's been injected with the serum. "Why did she need him?"

"Evelyn wanted her son to help her train her factionless warriors, and then help lead them in a war against Erudite and the whole faction system," Jeremy announces, and he looks at Four as though he's just realized he's in the room. "She thought if she could get him away from Tris, away from here, that she could get him to come back to her. He belongs with her and her army. He picked the wrong side."

Four looks livid.

"That's not really her decision to make," Four snaps, and he stands suddenly. "What did you do to Tris?" Rylan stares up at him, primed to pull him back down.

"I made sure she didn't try and get back together with you after your breakup, and I got her to go out with me. I told her how you really are. I know the real you. She was better off without you. It was easy to show her," Jeremy responds.

"How else did you help Evelyn?" I can't help but ask, and I ignore the look Four throws me. He's still standing beside Rylan, his whole body tensed.

Jeremy turns in my direction to answer my question.

"Evelyn wanted to isolate Four, make him more likely to join her, so I made sure to keep Tris away from him. I made her realize how controlling he was, how he never believed in her. I left notes for Four that told him to go see Evelyn. I kept tabs on you and Eric. I told Evelyn when and how to get Vincent into Dauntless, to have him show up as an initiate named Colton. I gave her any information she asked for."

"You just believed whatever Evelyn told you was right, and decided to fuck around with my life? You're an asshole," Four spits the words out. His fists are clenched tight, and he looks ready to pummel Jeremy; Rylan keeps a close eye on Four, who seems ready to lunge for Jeremy's throat.

"Why did you want to help Evelyn?" Harrison speaks up, watching the scene in front of him play out. "You're aware that she was planning to overthrow the whole system because of her personal beliefs."

Jeremy shifts in his chair, squirming to avoid answering the question. I watch as his skin flushes. "She's right."

Jeremy looks upset, but I know it's not out of remorse for what he's done. He believes Evelyn is right, and he's furious that he's being forced to tell us this against his will. He looks at me and his eyes seem to darken. "Every single one of you will be responsible for the downfall that will happen. Mark my words."

"That's enough," Eric snaps. He doesn't look as bored as I would have expected. And he definitely doesn't look as delighted or thrilled as he normally does whenever someone is talking about Four's misfortunes. He seems on edge, and he averts his stare except for Max. "So you followed Four, helped Evelyn with whatever she asked of you, helped set up Everly's kidnapping, betrayed your faction, and then abandoned your position here. Why come back?"

Jeremy lets out a sharp groan, and his head falls to the side. "Evelyn wanted me to. She'll come back for her revenge. You took Four and Everly away from her. Evelyn's owed something, and she won't stop until she gets it."

"She won't step foot in Dauntless." Four's voice is venomous, spoken through gritted teeth. "And you won't, either."

"I think we should stop and take him to Candor immediately, and we can start his trial there. We can finish up with any further information that's needed once we arrive," Max announces. Eric nods, his eyes fixed on the back of Jeremy's head.

"Everly." Jeremy says my name, and his eyes hold mine. "Watch out." He says the words clearly, and I notice he looks sweaty. "You'd better watch your back. You and Tris both."

Four reacts before anyone else. He jerks sharply away from Rylan, and is on the other side of the table before Rylan can scramble to his feet. Before I can blink, Four is beside Eric, his eyes boring into Jeremy's. Eric gives Four a pointed look before roughly yanking Jeremy up from the chair, letting him stumble for a second. I watch Eric's grip tighten until Jeremy winces, and then he hisses at Jeremy.

"Did you just threaten my wife?"

Jeremy shakes his head. "I'm trying to warn her."

"Why?" I ask, unable to look away. This whole meeting has left me dizzied. Evelyn has been out of sight for some time now, and the whole thing seems like a fuzzy nightmare that never happened. I'd like to forget that time of my life, but Jeremy's reappearance drags it all right back up. "I didn't do anything to her. She would have killed me in exchange for the Dauntless army."

Jeremy glares. "She'll come after all of you. But you all deserve it."

Without warning, we all hear the sound of Four's fist connecting with Jeremy's face. There is a resounding crack and Jeremy's head flies to the side. He stumbles, still partially held in place by Eric, which only makes it easier for Four to hit him again.

"Where is she?" Four hisses the words almost inaudibly, his jaw clenched painfully tight.

"Fuck, get him off me," Jeremy yells in a panic, rising up to wipe blood from his nose. He must not have heard Four's question, because he doesn't answer. He struggles, still restrained, and only succeeds in looking pitiful. "I think you broke my nose."

Four and Eric exchange a glance. I realize in that moment they're coming to a silent agreement; Jeremy has threatened both Tris and me, and if Eric can't be the one to beat the crap out of Jeremy, he'll be more than happy to let Four do it for him.

It only takes one more punch from Four, right in the weakest spot of his now-broken nose, before Jeremy slumps to the ground, his eyes shut and body unmoving. The room goes silent until Harrison finally speaks up.

"You better hope he's passed out and not dead." He pauses to sip his coffee and he turns to Arlene. "You know how to get blood out of the carpet?"

Arlene smirks and rises to her feet. "I'm assuming he passed out from the pain." She checks her watch, then grimaces, making a swift beeline for the door. "I'll be back in a bit. We can set his nose before you continue questioning him." Quinten steps aside to let Arlene pass, then resumes his post.

"We definitely aren't done here," Eric snarls, kicking at Jeremy's crumpled form. "Jack, you'll need to inject him again when he wakes up."

"No."

Every head in the room turns to stare at Jack. He picks up the vial from the table, placing it back in his pocket.

"We agreed that if he admitted to violating factional rules, we'd finish this at his trial." He raises an eyebrow at Eric and he takes a step back from the body in front of him. "We need to make sure you get the rest of his testimony in a more formal setting. You need concrete answers, and this process needs to be uninterrupted."

He looks directly at Four, and I know he's probably annoyed that Four interrupted the interrogation and knocked out our witness. But I don't disagree with Four's actions, and I don't blame him the least bit.

I don't think Eric does, either. While he doesn't come to Four's defense, he nods at Jack.

"Fine," Eric snaps, and he motions for Jason and Rylan to come over to him. "One of you go get Arlene back here. We'll get him up and awake, and then we'll take him to Candor. We'll finish this today."

"Tomorrow," Jack says smoothly, pleased at Eric's acceptance of his plan. "I have a few things to do before we prosecute him."

No one looks pleased, especially not Eric, but he nods wordlessly. Rylan leaves the room before anyone else, presumably to fetch Arlene. Max and Harrison rise to thank Jack, and they each shake his hand before the three of them walk towards the door.

"Eric," Max calls out, glancing back over his shoulder. "A word, please."

Eric gives Jeremy one more dirty look before he steps around him to storm out the door. I walk over to Four, noticing he's still staring down at Jeremy's unconscious form.

"Are you okay?" I ask him.

"No. Not at all." He presses his lips together tightly and shakes his head slowly. "You were right when you told me you thought he went to Evelyn. I had no idea he'd be dumb enough to believe anything she told him, let alone do the things he's done to help her." He turns and looks at me intensely, his eyes locked on mine. "All I can think about is that day you told me he was gone."

There is a weight in his stare and I shake my head. "I don't think he's any kind of threat now. He's lost his mind."

Four doesn't look like he believes that at all. "Thanks, Everly. But I have a feeling the trial will prove otherwise."

I shrug, not really convinced it'll prove anything other than how dangerous Evelyn is. "Are you going to tell Tris about all this?" I finally ask, watching as Eric returns with Rylan. Eric catches my eye, and he motions for us to follow him. "Don't you think she should know?"

"I don't know. Yes?" Four doesn't sound sure at all, and I can't even imagine what must be going through his mind. I think about both of his parents and how he's been treated by them and shake my head slowly.

"I have to think about it." Four lets out a huff of frustration and gives me a short nod. Together we walk out of the conference room, past a stoic Quinten, who's still standing guard at the doorway.

"I need to talk to you for a second." Eric is waiting outside the door, and he reaches for me. His hand finds mine, pulling me away from Four. I glance back at Four to say goodbye, but he's already striding off, hopefully to go speak to Tris. "Not here. At home."

I look back at Eric and smile, lacing my fingers through his. "Let's go home."

 

 

"You want me to what?"

It's hard to think, because Eric's fingers are busy undoing the button on my pants. I try to stop him; I put my hands on his chest and push back, not because I don't want him to continue — I definitely do — but because of what he just said. But it's useless. Eric is too immense for me to move, and he easily swats my hands away and shoves my pants down my hips.

"Take off your boots," he answers impatiently. He's watching me like a hawk, and I obediently reach down and untie the laces.

"Before that." I kick them to the side, and I don't even have time to react. He grips the bottom of my shirt, yanking it up and over my head. "Eric."

He smirks as he strips off his own shirt and tosses it to the side, not bothering to look where it lands. "I said, 'I'm leaving you in charge of the faction while we're gone'. All the leaders will be gone except for you, Jason, and Rylan. We won't be gone long."

"Umm, Eric..." I try to put together a full and proper sentence to convey what I'm feeling, to give him a fantastic reason why I'm suddenly nervous at being one third of the authority left that will oversee the faction while Eric is gone, but I can't. "I don't know…"

He undoes his pants, kicking them to the side with great enthusiasm. "You'll do fine," he tells me, taking a step towards me. I reach up, placing my hands on his chest as his hands come to rest on my hips. He drags me closer to him, then takes another step forward until I bump into the end of the bed. "I trained you. You know what to do. You can handle anything that comes your way."

He ends his arrogant reasoning by covering my mouth with his own. I can think of a few counter-arguments as to why I maybe shouldn't be the one left in charge, but they are squashed down when his hands move to toy with the waistband of my underwear.

"If anyone gives you a hard time..." Eric trails off, kissing his way along my jaw. I swallow when he gets to my neck, feeling my pulse speed up. "You can shoot them."

A giggle escapes my throat.

The idea of shooting anyone who dares challenge me is ridiculous, but it has a certain Eric-like appeal.

"I don't think I'll need to shoot anyone while you're gone," I tell him. I let my hands slide into Eric's hair, trailing through the soft sides, my fingers tightening when he pulls my underwear down.

"Everly." He says my name seriously, moving back a bit while I try to step out of them gracefully. He watches them fall to the ground while he toys with the strap on my bra. "Is every piece of underwear you own pink?"

I smile up at him, feeling my cheeks heat up. It wasn't something I'd done on purpose, but I had gone out of my way to find some of the prettier clothing here. And he'd certainly never minded before. "Not every piece," I defend myself.

"Uh huh," he mutters, reaching behind my back to undo the clasp. When I stand before him completely naked, he lunges forward like he's been waiting all day for this moment.

"Some are darker pink. Oh!" I find myself hitting the mattress as he climbs on top of the bed, kneeling over me. His boxers have miraculously vanished, and he knocks one of my knees out of the way. There is something positively primal about the way he looks at me, all dark eyes and a knowing smirk curling on his lips.

"Fascinating," Eric says dryly, but he grins as he moves to hover over me. "Don't move."

It's very easy for me to let him take control, adjusting myself as he presses me into the mattress until I am tangled in the dark sheets. His mouth seeks out the first spot he ever marked on me, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin on my neck. I try not to squirm, letting him bite as he pleases, knowing this will turn out very well for me in the end.

"Are you alright after shooting Jeremy?" His words startle me, ripping me away from the sensation of what he's doing. He says them lazily, while my skin is between his teeth.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I sigh, slipping my hand back into his hair. I urge him closer, enjoying the way the sharpness of his bite has turned pleasurable. "I didn't want him here. I knew he wasn't up to anything good."

I don't really want to think about Jeremy right now, but this is an easy way for Eric to show his concern. He skims across my collarbone until he reaches the other side, settling himself atop of me. The feel of his weight is pleasantly suffocating.

"You handled him well, just like I taught you," Eric murmurs against my skin. His hips press against my own, forcing a lovely warm feeling to work its way through me. He shifts upwards to get a better angle, and I suddenly realize Eric is really turned on by my shooting Jeremy.

Of course he is.

I tilt my head back, exposing my throat as Eric licks his way down my throat.

One of his hands skims up my ribs, stroking the skin just below my breast. It tickles for a second, before a warm palm cups the entirety of it. Every one of his movements is slow, precise and purposeful. He works his mouth down my chest, licking and sucking as he pleases, everywhere but where I want him the most.

"Eric." I try to say his name forcefully, but it comes out more like a sigh. I can feel him smirk against my skin, finally taking one of my nipples in his mouth. He bites down, harder than normal, but I push myself closer to him, enjoying the feeling immensely. "Harder."

My words make me feel hot, but he listens, pleased with my response. I trust him wholeheartedly, especially like this. He turns his attention to the other nipple while his fingers lazily squeeze and trace slow circles on my skin. I draw my knees up, pulling him closer and keeping him tight against me.

He hums slightly, smirking at my reactions to him. A moment later he lifts his head to stare up at me with a gleam in his eyes.

"Even your skin looks pink," he drawls, and he reaches up to let his fingers trace across my collarbone. He locks eyes with me on the last word, and I can feel the flush spread across my entire body. I can almost feel the pinkness of my skin, blushed deep from within. It's a response I can't control, all because of him.

"Are you stopping?" I reach for him, trying to draw him back to me.

Eric shakes his head. He reclines back onto his heels and stares down at me. I'd normally feel rather exposed like this, but there's nothing threatening in his stare.

Only highly-charged, wanton lust.

He reaches for me, yanking me by the hips until I'm closer to him, and then grins wolfishly. "Turn over." His voice is low and gravelly, and he waits patiently while I flip myself onto my stomach and lie back down. "I've been waiting for this ever since I saw you on the security footage."

His words make my heart speed up, and it only intensifies when I feel him over me. He brushes my hair off my neck, and he presses his lips to the uncovered skin. I wiggle beneath him, and he shoves his hips against my ass, partially holding me in place. I can feel his erection against me as he presses himself closer to me.

It's hard to stay still as he works his way lower, letting his lips drag down every single vertebra in my spine, lavishing extra attention on my tattoo. I try to focus on every single sensation, forcing my mind to relish every detail: the weight of him on top of me, his lips soft and full as they taste the skin that he's nipping at, the rich scent of him surrounding me. I'm almost lost in all of it when he pulls away abruptly.

"Get on your knees, Everly."

He says my name slowly, helping to pull me up until I'm on my knees. This isn't the first time I've been in this position, and I arch my back, growing impatient. He's left me frantic with need, and all he's done is let his hands linger all over me. He hasn't even given me the opportunity to touch him, and when he spreads my legs apart, I realize he isn't going to.

"I would have fucked you in the conference room had it just been you and me in there." He throws out the words easily, and I know in that moment he seriously contemplated it. I can imagine the way he would have bent me over the table, letting me gasp his name until it was time for Jeremy to confess what he'd been doing.

"It's a shame we didn't have time." He trails his fingers down my back, tracing my spine. I try to keep my breathing even, but it's difficult. Especially when he settles himself behind me, letting his hands rest on the curve of my ass.

"We could have done this in your office," I blurt out, completely aware that once I've said it, Eric will not forget it. But I'm right — we could have done this instead of just kissing in his office during our break.

Eric makes a sound of approval, and I feel his legs move to the outside of mine. His fingers trail lower, towards the inside of my thighs. There he takes his time, letting them move maddeningly slowly, so slowly I almost can't stand it, and then I nearly lose my balance when they slide between my folds.

"Good idea, Amity." He works with the same languid precision that I've grown to both love and hate. I find myself wiggling backwards, pushing myself shamelessly against his hand, wanting more. I've often wondered if it'll ever be enough, if I can ever have enough of him.

He pulls his hand away, and I groan until he returns, continuing to torture me like I'm the one that stormed in here with some dark secret.

"You like this, don't you?" His words make me hot all over, heating me up until I'm on the verge of losing it right here. I can't help the way I'm forcing my hips back, wishing his fingers would move faster. I get my wish when he moves, letting his fingers stroke slowly, making my eyes close. He toys with me, keeping the same pace until my thighs start to tense up right when he slides his finger inside of me. I nearly cry out when he almost immediately slides it back out.

"All of this is because I shot Jeremy, isn't it?" I find myself asking him at a ridiculous time, when my vision is blurring and I'm practically shoving myself in his face. This is nothing new between us, but Eric is practically a man possessed in this moment. I glance back at him, catching a glimpse of the muscles that line his stomach, the sharp V of his hips, and his hand stroking his length. He works slowly up the shaft to the head, and he groans as his hand slides back down. He continues to touch himself, his eyes half-hooded now.

"I watched your whole patrol." He sounds distracted, and he rises up onto his knees, his fingers leaving my legs. He positions himself behind me again, and I feel the very tip of him press against my entrance. "I had no idea watching you storm around in that uniform would be such a turn on."

He pushes himself into me, slowly so I can adjust to the thickness of him, then reaches for my hips until I rock back. The feeling is blazingly hot and mind-bogglingly good. I feel him pull back and then thrust back in, keeping his hands on my hips to set the pace. It's not long before we find one that works for both of us.

"Eric, you feel so good." I pride myself on uttering a complete sentence right now. He's thrusting into me a little faster now, and I lean back into him, enjoying the way he feels. He stops for a moment, pulling me up until I'm standing on my knees, and then he pulls me back until I'm on my heels, slamming me down onto him.

"Fuck, Everly." My name is hissed into my ear as he manipulates my hand between my legs. The feel of his own fingers mixed with mine, stroking against overly sensitive nerves nearly throws me over the edge. I let out a whimper, and I find myself leaning back into Eric.

"I'm really close," I tell him. My skin feels burning hot, like it's shrunk a size too small, and I squirm back against Eric. My whole body is flushed, covered in a layer of sweat as I keep going, relishing in the sensation of Eric's fingers and my own mixed with the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.

"Good," he hisses, and his hands grips my hip tightly. "You deserve it after all your hard work today."

I bite my lip as he presses harder, hitting a spot that seems to be buried deep inside of me, and the feeling is nearly overwhelming. It feels impossibly good and I force myself against him. I'm groaning his name, and I feel the muscles in his chest tighten.

"You're mine." He moans the words, unprovoked and unplanned. I can tell he's close to coming; the muscles in his thighs are tight, his breathing is frantic, and he's slamming into me at a much faster pace than before. "Only mine." His last words are garbled, gasped whenever he can.

"Oh, God." I can't say anything else and I certainly can't think.

The sensation of him pulsing as he releases inside me pushes me over the edge with him. White-hot energy charges through my body, and I jerk and shudder against him as his hands slide up to squeeze my breasts. "Eric," I moan, reaching behind me to pull his head to mine, my lips seeking out his. I kiss him greedily, wishing he was even closer.

Eric slides himself out of me slowly, pulling me down with him to lie on top of the bed. We are a tangled mess of sweaty limbs, but Eric doesn't seem to mind as he reaches his hand out to move my hair off of my face.

"You really need to shoot people more often," he says with a satisfied grin.

I can't help but giggle, reaching for him now that I can finally touch him. My hands find his chest, lingering for just a moment.

"Maybe I should," I pretend to think about it as my hands travel lower, skimming his abdomen, "If this is how I'm going to be rewarded."

Eric pulls me tight against him and kisses me soundly. He finally breaks away from me, and untangles himself, knocking my hands away. I don't enjoy the lack of warmth that washes over me, but it vanishes as soon as he kneels between my legs.

"I can think of a few more ways to reward you." He reaches for my ankles, yanking me down further on the bed until he seems satisfied. He pushes my knees open, keeping his eyes on me as he lowers himself; the last thing I see before my eyes close are his grey eyes and the smirk on his face.

"Happy Tuesday, Everly."


	48. Just Another Day in Dauntless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to BK2U for editing this chapter!
> 
> I'd also like to thank yifrodit for creating such a cool cover image for the story. She's actually created three of them! I posted them on the tumblr that I share with a friend of mine. (She's far more fluent in Tumblr than I could ever dream of being.) It is so cool to see Eric and Everly together, as well as Everly, Christina and Tris. So take a peek and you can help decide which one you like the best because I can not decide at all. You can find it on Tumblr under clublulu333. Keep in mind all content on there is not posted by me, so it's not all about this story!
> 
> And thanks to all of you for all your continued support :) I really appreciate every single kind word you've written about this story.
> 
> Also, on a minor note, we are almost to 50 chapters! I never in a million years dreamed we'd be this far along in the story. I'm trying to think of something to do to celebrate; maybe a POV that we haven't had yet (ha!), or maybe something super awesome will happen in chapter 50. Who knows!
> 
> Happy Reading!

Eric goes to leave much earlier than I want him to.

He untangles himself from beneath me, not really attempting to unwrap my arms wound through his and my head buried in his neck. I make a low groan of protest. He's all too warm and perfect like this. I don't want him to leave and it has nothing to do with me being left in charge.

"Everly." He says my name in a low voice, heavy with sleep, and there's a tiny hint of gloom mixed in there, too. "I have to get up or I'll be late."

I contemplate telling him it won't matter whether he's late or not. Jeremy will still have the same shit story to tell; he'll still reveal more terrible, awful things that he's done to the people he was close to. I want to tell Eric not to go, not to listen to Jeremy describe in great detail just how he held the door open for Colton to walk into Dauntless, or how he manipulated one of my closest friends into believing her ex-boyfriend was some controlling creep. But my words aren't enough to stop him. He's got a personal interest in Jeremy, not to mention the fact that Jeremy's traitorous actions are hanging over his head.

"Stay here," I mumble, mostly into the inked skin of his throat. I feel a heavy hand slip into my hair, gently tugging on the strands until I raise my head to blink up at him. "You don't need to go. We can stay here and rule Dauntless together."

Eric smiles, all sleepy and amused, and I like when he looks like this. His eyes are still soft, still not fully awake and armed. They're rare, the moments when he's this relaxed, even with me.

"If I could, I would." He pauses, taking a second to push my hair out of my eyes. "But I have work to do today. And so do you." He says the last words deliberately, and I scowl. I definitely don't have the day off, but it isn't even light out yet. It's way too early for anyone in Dauntless to be awake. And judging by the amounts of coffee Max and Harrison drink, they aren't fans of being up early, either.

I make some sort of noncommittal noise in response, and Eric smirks.

"Get off me, Amity. Otherwise, I gotta leave Karl in charge and he's not going to let you shoot anyone." With that final declaration Eric shoves me off of him, leaving me to lie there, my face planted down onto his pillow. I finally push myself up on my elbows, and I try to glare at him from beneath my hair.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll get up."

I catch sight of his lingering smirk as he slides off the bed, throwing me one long, leering glance over his shoulder. "It was easier to wake you up when you were just an initiate," he muses, and I enjoy the view while his naked self walks towards the bathroom.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I can hear the shower start, and I know he can't hear my response.

He's right, though.

It was much easier to wake up back when I first came to Dauntless, mostly because Eric didn't keep me up at night with his head between my thighs.

 

 

"If all goes according to plan, we'll be back before dinner. If we run into any problems, it may be later." Eric is pacing in his office, his hands clasped behind his back. He's dressed in a sharp uniform, one that makes him look more threatening than usual. "We don't expect any problems with Jeremy cooperating."

I glance at him, knowing he's talking about the truth serum Jeremy was given. I almost want to ask to go along with Eric. I've never seen a trial before, and the way the truth serum worked was fascinating. It made it impossible for Jeremy to lie, allowing the words to tumble out of him in a painful manner. But I know he'll say no, and not just to keep me away from Jeremy.

"I don't doubt that the three of you will be able to keep an eye on things here," he continues, until Jason shifts his weight and clears his throat.

"Yes?" Eric takes note of him, and addresses him with an eye roll. "Jason, do you have a question?"

"I do. So we're all equals here, right? Me, Rylan, and Everly?" Jason tilts his head to the side and glances at his friend. "While you and the others are gone?"

Eric nods, clearly reluctant at the idea of leaving Jason in charge of anything.

"So why am I assigned to oversee the third floor and the dining hall?" Jason sounds unusually insulted, and Rylan snickers on the other side of me.

"Because last time you were left in charge of anything, you wound up flooding the training room," Rylan points out, barely able to keep a straight face. I turn to look at him in surprise. He's still trying to compose himself, and he shakes his head to stop his laughter.

"You really did that, Jason? You flooded the training room?" I ask him curiously. Even after all this time, I know little about Eric's closest friends. I do know that they hold a fierce loyalty to him and that they would do nearly anything for their friend. But I'm also aware that Jason has a bit of a mischievous streak, and seems to spend half of his time goofing off as opposed to doing any real work.

Jason sighs in exasperation and looks at me like I've asked him the world's dumbest question. "No, Everly. I did not flood the training room. I flooded the bathroom, and it made its way out to the training room. There's a main water line in there, and it accidentally burst while I was testing how much weight it could hold."

His words make me break into a smile.

I look over at Eric, trying hard to keep from laughing. "Seriously?"

Eric looks rather annoyed. He presses his fingers to his temples and exhales very slowly. "Yes. And that is why you are assigned to oversee two areas that don't have any visible water main lines."

"That's hardly fair," Jason protests, but Eric ignores him. He's busied himself with his phone, frowning at something on the screen. I use his distraction to my advantage.

"Jason, how much could it hold? Did you find out?" I ask him, wondering just exactly how he was testing this line.

"Everly, don't ask him anything else," Eric snaps, sounding annoyed. He glances up from his phone, and his jaw tightens in exasperation. He's definitely not in a cheerful mood today, even with the prospect of soon finding out where Evelyn is. "No one will be testing any water lines today."

"Well, there's no need now," Jason mutters.

Eric ignores him, screwing his eyes shut for a second. "Are there any more questions? I need to get going."

Rylan and I shake our heads. I have a lot of questions, but none of them can be answered before he leaves. Eric nods in satisfaction, and moves to collect some files from his desk. Noticing Eric's interruption, Jason elbows me sharply. "The one down there was old. That particular one can hold a little over three hundred pounds. Two hundred pounds of pure muscle and one hundred pounds of this girl whose name I never quite understood. Maria? Maritza? Marsala?"

"You aren't even a hundred pounds of any muscle," Rylan interjects, having overhead his friend. "And isn't Marsala a wine?"

I catch sight of Eric, noticing the way his jaw is now clenched shut and his hands are curled into fists. He raises an eyebrow to snap at his friend, but he doesn't get the chance. Max appears, followed by Harrison and Tori, who are loudly arguing over an appropriate punishment for Jeremy. They quiet down slightly as they pass us, and Tori smiles in my general direction.

"You ready?" Max asks, walking past Jason, Rylan and me. "We should head out. Jack said he'd like to get started by ten and it's nearly nine-thirty now."

Eric nods. "I agree. The rest of you..." He pauses and his eyes skate over us. They land on me, softening the slightest bit. "Good luck."

Everyone splits away immediately; Jason and Rylan head for the door, grabbing Harrison and Tori. I can hear Jason's mild protests, and I have to grin as I think about what awaits him on the third floor. In front of me, Max lingers beside Eric, both of them looking at their phones. Max finally looks up, well aware that I'm waiting to say goodbye to Eric.

"Everly, I noticed you only have two months left in your leadership training. Today will be a great learning exercise for you. There's nothing better than this sort of experience." He's smiling now, pleased that he's about to have another leader. Dauntless is in a slight limbo right now — Britney's situation isn't any worse, but it isn't any better, either. Last I heard, Arlene was forced to restrain her after she attempted to lop all her hair off with a pair of safety scissors. There's only a slim chance she'll return to her position anytime soon.

But the idea of me taking her place makes me nervous.

And for good reason.

I'm starting to realize that aside from Jason and Rylan, Eric, Christina, Tris, and Four, my world in Dauntless is pretty limited. Sure, I know Karl and a few of his friends. I also know Peter, Molly, and Arlene, and a few of the nurses. And I do know Max, Harrison, Tori, and most of the other people that work in leadership. But other than that, I've been consumed by what I have been doing with Eric. Everything I know in Dauntless has revolved around my life with him. I never minded before, not a single bit. I feel at home here, and there isn't one single moment I would trade to know more of the members or have a better idea of what I'm doing.

But there is so much of Dauntless that I'd never learn about underneath Eric. There are too many people I've yet to meet; too many places, too many secret niches, and too many dark corners that I've yet to unearth. Training under Eric and living under Eric has meant that I've never explored much on my own. Were it not for Christina, I'd never even know there are shops here.

I'm happy with everything I've learned, everything I've done and accomplished under Eric. His guidance has been far superior than what I could have learned from anyone else, but it's also been strictly limited to what he wants me to know. The idea of overseeing the faction, even if not a single thing happens today, is intense. I want to make Eric proud, I want to make him believe in me, to know that all of the time he spent with me has been worth it.

But more importantly, I want to make myself proud.

Every single thought must be visible on my face, because Eric nudges me lightly as he steps closer. His fingers brush against mine, and the feeling is delightfully illicit.

"Everly."

He says my name gently, and when his eyes meet mine, I know he understands every worry that's running through my mind.

"You'll do fine. I'll see you for dinner," he tells me, and he locks his stare on me. "Don't attempt to cook anything."

I nod at him, smiling slightly even though all I want to do is grasp his hand, slide my fingers between his, and yank him towards me. "Don't worry, I won't," I answer him, letting my fingers curl against his.

"I left you some stuff to do on your desk. It's all paperwork that you know how to do, and in the worst case scenario, you can ask Rylan for help." Eric speaks lowly, even though Max isn't paying him any attention. He's already headed out the door, and I can hear him greeting Linda in the hallway.

"I'll do my best," I tell him, noting the way his fingers tighten against my own.

"Or you can text me." Eric steps in front of me, and I glance up at him.

"You'll answer?" I sound surprised; I assumed he'd be unavailable for the entire day. There is something comforting in knowing I could get a hold of him, even if it's just a message.

He frowns. "I'll try the best I can. I have no idea if Max has anything else planned after Jeremy's trial."

With that he leans in, brushing his lips against mine for a fleeting moment, and then his fingers leave mine. "Bye, Everly."

"Bye, Eric." I watch him walk away, his dark form retreating down the hallway. I can hear his rough voice echoing as he instructs Max to follow after him, and I realize for the first time since I've been in Dauntless, I'll be without him for an entire day by our own choosing.

 

 

"Motherfucker."

I swear loudly and unexpectedly, shoving the files back onto Eric's desk. When I sat down at my own desk, I was surprised to find it covered in multiple folders. For a minute, I thought he was joking, but no. Eric left me no less than a dozen folders, each one with multipage, detailed reports.

Factional Resourcing.

Security Codes.

Security Breaches.

Security Codes and Breaches by Faction.

Updated Interfactional Policies.

Computer Software Updates.

Quarterly Inventory Audits by Faction.

A lunch schedule from the cafeteria.

There are all kinds of notes on them in Eric's neat handwriting. Some have detailed information, outlining the way he would handle the reports. Others just have suggestions, like 'less meatloaf'. I swallow and take a second to find a place to start, wondering which one holds the most importance.

I decide to start with the lunch schedule from the cafeteria, and it isn't long before I'm lost in a mess of lunch meats and salads.

 

 

"What do you mean, you got to look over the lunch schedule? I want to see that one." Rylan sounds like he's only half-joking as we walk through the hallways. He appeared in the office sometime before ten and suggested we talk a walk to check everything out. I was more than grateful for the break. This morning had been spent dealing with a task of leadership that's the least glamorous of all. I never imagined that being left in charge meant I was responsible for filling out so many pointless forms. So when Rylan offered up a break from the reports, I quickly agreed.

A few days ago, I discovered that Rylan's office is only a few doors down from mine. It's funny that I never noticed him there, but I hadn't exactly been looking, either. I was tempted to ask him what he did all day long, but he was too fixated on the pile of folders on my desk.

"You are more than welcome to look at it," I respond, turning to head down a set of stairs. Getting out of the office feels fantastic after an hour of staring at the papers. "It's mostly Eric vetoing every item on the lunch menu." I keep up with him easily; he has a less hurried pace than Eric, and he is much less intimidating as we walk through the hallways.

"Does Eric expect you to finish all that today?" Rylan looks curious, his brown eyes peering down at me.

"I have no idea. It seems like a ton of work for one morning." I take the steps two at a time, and I can hear the roar of Dauntless as we approach the Pit.

"It is," Rylan answers, and he shrugs. "I'm sure Eric will be fine with whatever you finish. It's not like he can't work on it later. And the lunch menu can wait."

"I don't mind too much. I don't even know when it's all supposed to be done." I say the words as we step into the Pit, and I come to an immediate halt. There's a circle that's formed — Dauntless members are gathered around something, yelling words of encouragement and jeering on people I can't see.

"What the…" Rylan's words are lost in a wave of cheers, and I try to push through the sea of people. I shove past as many people as I can, elbowing them out of the way as Rylan follows after me. It feels almost impossible. They are all significantly taller than I am, and none of them are willing to move.

"Excuse me." I try to nicely shove a girl with long blue hair out of my way, wondering if niceties are even necessary at this point. She shoves me back, then glances down at me and scowls.

"If you're trying to place a bet you're too late," she informs me snottily.

"I'm not here to place a bet," I answer, and she looks back at me in surprise. Her eyes narrow in recognition and she takes a step to the side.

"Oh. Sorry." She doesn't sound the least bit sorry, and I ignore her. I push past a few more black-clad members until I finally get to the front of the crowd, catching sight of what everyone has been watching.

There are two men fighting, and while that in itself is nothing out of the ordinary, the fact that they are both completely bloodied is. The taller one wipes at his nose, smearing more blood across his face. He has a crazed looked in his eyes, one that only intensifies when his opponent stumbles towards him.

"Say it again," the taller one yells, and he swallows thickly. "Call me a traitor one more time."

The smaller man jabs at him, lunging forward without hesitation. I don't recognize either of them; they are both older than me, and judging by their bloody appearance, they're not afraid to settle their disputes by any means.

They begin to swing at each other, wildly and sloppily. They both lack the skillful fighting I've been taught, but they are brutally strong and I realize they won't stop until one of them isn't conscious.

"Hey!" I yell out, watching the smaller of the two land a punch directly to the other guy's face. The man lets out a howl of pain as blood splatters everywhere. There is a low groan from the people around me, and a few shouts of sympathy.

"Oh, shit. That's gotta be broken." Rylan has finally pushed his way beside me and assesses the situation in front of him. "We need to stop this before it gets out of hand. There aren't even any fights scheduled for today."

I am only vaguely aware that some members of Dauntless fight for fun. It serves a few purposes: stress relief, entertainment, and practice. It's usually good-natured, and never terribly violent. But this is definitely not a scheduled performance fight, and it is definitely not good-natured.

"Okay," I answer Rylan, and I know what I need to do. I take a step forward into the small circle until I'm a few feet away from the two men. Neither of them notice my presence, and I steel my spine.

"That's enough!"

I yell the words loud enough for both of them to hear. One cocks his head at me as the Pit goes suddenly quiet. The two men pause long enough to look over at me, and the far bloodier one blinks in confusion.

"What?" He is looking at me with a weird expression, and his opponent uses his distraction to his advantage. He punches him hard, directly in the temple. He stumbles back wildly, trying to regain his balance. Before I can yell anything else, he returns the punch, hitting his opponent directly in the mouth.

The smaller man recovers quickly, then turns to spit blood on the floor a few feet away from me.

"Had enough, you traitor?" he crows, before turning to stare at me. "Isn't that what you said, little girl? That he's had enough?"

"No, I said 'that's enough'. You need to stop right now." I try to keep my voice strong and neutral, and Rylan nods in approval.

"This isn't the place to settle this argument. You both need to head upstairs. Chad, you'll follow Everly and head to the infirmary, and Matthew, you can come with me." Rylan sounds much more official than I do, and I try to ignore the crappy feeling I get when I realize Rylan knows who they are and I don't.

Both of them look irritated at our words; their faces are flushed with anger and blood. Chad steps towards Matthew in a fake out movement, sneering when Matthew recoils, then sulkily lowers his head. "Fine. But I gotta grab a shake on the way."

Matthew sneers. "More protein isn't gonna help you out next time, Chad."

Rylan ignores them. "Now, guys. Everyone else can go back to doing something more productive than watching these Neanderthals fight. Remember, we are on high alert. You all have shit to be doing."

There is a roar of displeasure from the crowd. I glance around, wondering if anyone cares that these two are dripping blood everywhere. But they don't. They're just annoyed that their entertainment is now over.

There is a shuffling of feet, and I look up in surprise when Chad comes to a stop next to me. He's taller and older than I expected, with dark brown hair that's matted with his own blood. He wipes at his eyes, but his hands have blood all over them, and the result leaves him looking like something out of one of the horror movies Eric and I have watched. At my stare he grins at me, his perfectly straight teeth stained pink, and I resist the urge to take a step back.

"Eric send you down here to stop us?" He stretches his neck to the side forcing the veins to pop out and I shake my head.

"No. And why were you fighting your friend like that?" Rylan is ready to usher Matthew away, but he's waiting until I'm ready to go. He catches my eye, checking to make sure I'm fine, and I nod at him before looking back at Chad. He doesn't look so scary anymore. He looks like an overgrown child, sulking that he's been put in time out.

"He said I was a traitor. Said I should have gone with Jeremy because he and I were friends," Chad spits out, annoyance rampant through his tone. "Fuck him. I had beers with him twice." He pauses and looks directly at me. "I heard he's back and he came after you."

"I stopped him. And he's being taken care of," I answer easily, and I reach to take his arm. "We should have your nose looked at." He looks at me in surprise, and then he suddenly seems to shrink down at the realization that he might actually be injured.

"You stopped him?" He sounds like he doesn't believe me, but I'd expect nothing less.

"He had no right to come back here," I inform Chad, tugging firmly on his arm. He nods his head in approval and cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Alright. And I'll go to the infirmary. Only because I think that fucker broke my nose." Chad moves closer to me, no doubt subdued now that the adrenaline has worn off. I glance over at Rylan, and announce I'll meet up with him as soon as I'm done.

He agrees and I head off, dragging Chad and his busted nose to the infirmary.

 

 

Arlene is delighted to see me — so delighted that she seems to forget that Chad is sitting there with his nose dripping blood all over her clean floors.

"Any word from Eric yet?" she asks me, scrawling a few things down on the papers in front of her. She takes a moment to assess Chad, reaching out to press a few spots on his face and smirking when he yelps in pain.

"Not yet." I watch her carefully. "I hope it's going well."

"Don't worry. That little shit has no chance of getting away with anything. Truth serum is no joke." Arlene reaches forward and pushes on the bridge of Chad's nose. He lets out a startlingly girly shriek, and she steps back, satisfied with her work. "You'll need an X-ray. I'll put in the order now, though there's not much we can do with it."

"Fuck, that hurt. Aren't you supposed to be helping me? What do you mean there's not much you can do?" Chad cringes, pressing on his face with both hands in an attempt to relieve the pain.

She eyes him up and down, her lips pressing together. "Aren't you supposed to be doing an actual job rather than fighting over something so stupid?" She glares at him, and I want to tell him to be quiet because she's probably just going to let him sit here forever now. Or worse, assign him one of the receptionists to attempt to help him. "We'll help you set it and bandage it. It'll heal on its own. I'll send a nurse when they're ready for you."

He scowls at her, but her withering glare means he stays quiet.

"And next time, don't skip leg day. It might have helped you win your fight."

Chad jerks his head in her direction so fast that I'm surprised he doesn't have whiplash. She smiles, something with a fake politeness to it, and turns her head towards me.

"Walk with me for a second. I need your signature on a few things."

I step away from Chad, listening to him mumble under his breath about Arlene, but I focus my eyes on the papers in her hand. We walk along until she stops near the reception area and hands me a pen, instructing me to sign on the line. I sign my name neatly, then try not to look at the large clock on the wall across from me.

Arlene picks up on it immediately.

"Missing Eric?" she asks, nosy and attentive as ever.

I nod, knowing there's no way on earth she won't notice.

"Do you think they'll be done soon?" I ask Arlene, trying to steel my face back into something more neutral. Arlene looks at me carefully and shakes her head.

"No. They'll hold the trial, debate about sentencing, sit around and bullshit for a while, and then Eric will be home. This is a big deal. They've been looking for Evelyn for a while now, and Jeremy has enough information about her that they won't make this easy for him." She hesitates for a second and her eyes seem to bore into me. "This is the first time Eric's been gone like this and you've been left waiting for him, knowing he's fine but just not here, right?"

I nod. "Yes."

Arlene smiles. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone miss Eric before."

"I'm worried about what Jeremy will tell them," I confess. "I don't want Eric to come back here and immediately have to leave to find Evelyn. You know that the minute he knows her whereabouts, he'll go after her with a vengeance."

"You and I both know that's exactly what's going to happen," Arlene answers. She peers over her glasses at me. "Do you want to go with him to find Evelyn?"

I look directly at her, thinking of the way I can sometimes feel the ghost of Evelyn's grip on my arm as she pulled me away from my husband and his soldiers, and then stabbed my neck with something to make me forget him.

"Yes."

Arlene smiles.

"Because then this will all be over," I tell her firmly.

It's all I want. I want everything back to normal; I want Eric back, storming around Dauntless until we're ready to go home. I want Four and Tris to not have been manipulated by some psycho, and I want to not have to trudge back upstairs and finish ten more reports by myself.

Arlene's hand finds my shoulder, warmer and more comforting than I ever would have thought. "It'll be done soon. This trial puts them one step closer to finding out where Evelyn is, and one step closer to you and Eric having no one coming after you."

I nod up at her and smile, hoping she's right. "Good."

Arlene smiles back tightly. "Is there anything else I can help you with while you're here?" She sounds slightly different now, her voice turning concerned.

"No, I'm good. Thank you, though." I politely decline her offer. She can't bring Eric and the others back here any faster, and there is still a large part of me that doesn't want to need him back. I can do this on my own. I can prove to everyone that I'm fully capable of handling myself and Dauntless.

Arlene opens her mouth and then shuts it without saying another word. She doesn't look like she believes me, but for once, she doesn't press the issue, mostly because Chad starts shrieking again.

 

 

"Man, Evelyn's really got everyone all worked up, doesn't she? And she's not even here," Rylan says cheerfully, holding a spoonful of soup in the air. "She'd probably be thrilled to know that she's caused quite the commotion."

"I don't think that's quite the type of commotion she wants," I answer, glancing around the dining hall. I speak from unfortunate experience. Evelyn wants people to join her, to rally behind her ideas and become part of her army without question. She wouldn't be pleased that someone was insulted enough to fight over being associated with her.

"Good point." Rylan waves behind me and looks at me carefully. "You think they're almost done? I can't imagine it would take long to make him talk and decide what to do with him. Shoot him on sight, if you ask me."

"Arlene thinks it's going to take all day." I sound glum, and I wish I didn't, but I'm not stupid. After I left the infirmary, I realized a few things. Jack Kang not only has Jeremy right where he wants him, but Eric and the rest of the leaders, too. For once it isn't Dauntless leading the defense of the factions, it's Candor, and something tells me Jack is going to enjoy every minute of it.

I catch a blur of black out of the corner of my eye, and I smile widely.

Christina bounces over to us, a happy smile on her face, and sits down beside Rylan. Rylan looks thrilled to see her; he reaches around her, slipping his arm around her waist and tilting his head until it touches hers. I watch her sit pressed up against him, grinning from ear to ear while we resume eating our soups and salads, and I feel my happiness slip away. I stab at my salad aimlessly, then swallow it down without really chewing it.

"Where's Jason?" I ask dully, and I feel a flash of irritation at myself.

I know exactly why I sound the way I do, and it's stupid.

I'm jealous of my friends.

Jealous of Rylan and Christina eating lunch together.

Because I want Eric here.

I've been spoiled by our matching schedules and the ability to leave with him whenever we please. And now I want him here, pressed up against me, whispering in my ear, his fingers skirting over me while we eat lunch.

Rylan snorts. "He's in the kitchen. He's supposed to be overseeing the entire floor, but somehow he got roped into helping to change the air filters, and now he's been there all morning."

His words bring a smile to my face, and I feel marginally better.

"How lovely for the kitchen staff," Christina snorts.

"He'll be there all day. They start dinner prep soon, and Jason is a surprisingly accomplished chef." Rylan tries to untangle himself from Christina for a second so he can take a spoonful of his soup. "This day is flying by."

"Kind of." I agree with him somewhat. The day has gone by quickly, but not like it normally does. I look up in surprise when I see another familiar figure approaching the table. Tris appears, and slides into the seat next to me. Her presence is a rare gift these days; her hours are so odd that I can't keep them straight, and I can't imagine Four enjoys them much, either.

"Tris!" I reach for her, hugging her as best as I can while she sets her soup down. She smiles tiredly, and I notice she's selected the same soup I'm eating. I have half a mind to warn her it's fairly bland for chicken noodle. I take note of the way she looks especially sleepy today; she rubs at her eyes for a moment, as if she could wipe away the dark circles beneath them.

"Tris, is there something you want to tell us? " Christina fixes her stare on our friend, her brown eyes narrowed in concern. "Because you look like shit."

Tris flinches at Christina's blunt words, but shakes her head. "I know. I have to tell Kacie I can't keep covering these shifts. My schedule is so off that I can't seem to sleep when I want and need to." She takes a spoonful of her soup and grimaces. "Did someone else make this today? It's really weird-tasting."

"I think Jason made it. But I think it's surprisingly great," Rylan interrupts, and he shoves his empty bowl away from him. "I'll eat yours if you don't want it."

"Why is Kacie making you work all these weird shifts?" I ask Tris. She's still attempting to eat the offending soup, but she shakes her head at my question.

"I offered to help her out with a few of them. I think she misunderstood and thought I wanted to work all of them. I'm supposed to work from eight until two, then from three to seven. I don't think I can stay awake the entire shift." Tris looks miserable as a look of gloom crosses her features. "They've upped how many people are working surveillance, but we still don't have enough coverage. And Kacie isn't the friendliest of people if you don't agree with her."

I nod at her sympathetically. My own time training with Kacie hadn't been anything that I'd consider fun. She trained me well, but she also spent a great deal of time trying to find out anything and everything she could about Eric. It had been beyond annoying to deflect her questions, and in the end I'd just flat out ignored her.

"I could talk to her," I offer, not wanting Tris to be stuck with these wretched hours. I know that she's more likely to attempt to work the shifts herself, and talking with Kacie would be her last resort. There's a fleeting moment of hope that flickers across her face before she slumps forward.

"I don't know if that would go well. She's really shorthanded, and there aren't many people trained for what she needs," she responds, shoving her bowl of soup across the table to Rylan. "Here, you finish this. I'm just going to eat my salad."

Chris throws me a very meaningful look, one that tells me she thinks something is fishy, and I nod slightly in silent agreement.

Neither of us comment on it, because a moment later, Peter storms through the dining hall, and doesn't stop until he finds me and snarls my name.

 

 

Peter looks at me with contempt, his lips curling up into a fake smile at anyone we pass by as we walk back to my office. Rylan threw me a look of sympathy when Peter said he wanted to talk to me and only me, and my stomach tightened at the idea. Whatever he wants won't be good. His actions when I joined Karl's patrol squad told me that much.

"So nice they gave you your own office so soon," Peter says lightly, waiting until I look up at him to smile again. "It's impressive how much faith they have in you."

"What exactly do you need that I couldn't help you with downstairs?" I ask him. We approach my office after what seems like far too long, and he follows me in. I catch him looking around curiously, his beady eyes taking in every inch of the space.

The leaders' offices are a far cry from what I'd first expected.

The only office I'd ever known was Johanna's. Her office suits her; the second floor expanse is located over the stables. It's always been warm and welcoming, more homey than anything. Here, it's different. The Dauntless leader's offices are impressive, at least to me. Each leader is given a large block of space, whatever sort of desk they wish, and loads of equipment that most of them don't really know how to use. My office has few decorations in it, mostly because I spend most of my time in Eric's.

I glance at my computer, noticing a blinking alert that tells me I have a message, and I resist the urge to check it while Peter is standing here, his eyes fixed on the monitor. He'd probably love the very idea of reading such information, no matter how trivial it may be.

"Are you gonna check that?" He ignores my previous question and instead steps much too close to the side of my desk. Peter's eyes are on the computer, and I know he knows exactly how to use it. Security personnel all know how to the work the computers for safety reasons, and being in charge of the patrol squads means Peter often works on them. Judging from the look on his face, he's already imagining himself working on this particular one.

"Not right now," I answer, and I sit down in the chair behind my desk. "Now, what can I help you with?"

"Everly." He exaggerates my name for a second, letting me wait for him to get to the point. "We have something to discuss."

I lean back in the chair, and I wait for him to continue. One thing I've learned from Eric is to stay silent and let people talk until they're done. The silence makes them uneasy, and they typically wind up blurting out more than what they originally planned out of nervousness. It's one of his better tactics, one that works nearly every time.

"I want a better position here in Dauntless," he finally announces, and he lets his fingers land on the edge of my desk. "I've been overseeing the patrol squads for some time now." He pauses, then adds, "Long before you arrived here."

I stay quiet as Peter's eyes darken. "It's unfair that you came here and were immediately placed in a leadership training position. It's almost like someone pulled strings and put you where they wanted you."

I don't let myself react to his words. I know they are designed to irritate me or maybe even guilt me into doing whatever he's about to ask. And besides that, I definitely earned my spot here.

Peter clears his throat to make sure my attention is on him and then he crosses his arms in front of his chest, like a child about to make an outlandish demand.

"I want to join Eric's program," he finally states, and his voice sounds higher than before. "More specifically, I want your place in the program."

A flicker of surprise runs through me.

I peer up at him in disbelief. "My place? How would you even do that? I'm almost done with my program."

Peter shrugs as though it doesn't matter, but it does. There are months of work behind what I've done. Hours of paperwork and meetings, days' worth of training and a few months' worth of working with Four until I was certain I knew how to lead a proper initiation. "You'd be missing more than three quarters of the leadership program."

Peter sneers at me. "I probably know way more than you do even with your stupid program. Besides, Eric tailored it to your specific needs. He just put you in it so you'd stick around with him. No one here thinks you'll ever be an actual leader." He says the final sentence with disgust, looking down his nose at me.

I stay perfectly still, trying not to let on that his words have hit the very small nerve of insecurity that I've dealt with all morning.

"And how do you propose I tell Eric you're taking my place?" I ask him. I'm more curious than anything, wondering if he has an actual plan. I can't even imagine standing before Eric, watching his face as I politely excuse myself from his program and suggest Peter should take my place.

But Peter clearly has imagined the scenario differently. His face lights up, as though he's made major headway. "You tell him you're stepping down, and that you think I should take your spot." He smirks. "Obviously, Eric cares somewhat for your opinion."

"And if I don't think you're the best person to take my place?" I'm smart enough to see what's coming. I know he's here to bargain. I just didn't think it would be for my own position here.

I idly reach forward and adjust the folders in front of me. I have half a mind to tell him to take the position and shove it. To enjoy the mountains of reports I still need to finish, including the one I'm about to write about him.

"Then my patrol squad and I walk," Peter threatens haughtily. He straightens his spine defiantly, looking at me with a triumphant glare. "You don't do what I ask, and they'll all walk out on my word. You and I both know you'll get kicked out of leadership for leaving the faction unguarded. We are on high alert, after all."

My fingers hover above the keyboard in front of me. "Your whole squad, huh?" I quickly but carefully type a few words into the messenger and select a name from the list, pleased when the response comes back immediately.

"Squad eight. They're far more loyal to me than you," he declares, very sure of himself. I can see him getting worked up now, thinking he's pulled one over on me. I'm sure he thinks his timing is phenomenal.

"Alright, then." I type a few more words and then I look directly at him. "I'll see you later."

Peter's face goes slack when I dismiss him. "We aren't done here, Everly. You really want Dauntless undefended? You're going to risk our safety for your own selfish reasons?"

I resist the urge to shoot him, even though I have Eric's permission. "You and your patrol can go home now. You can all take the rest of the day off. Unpaid, of course." I smile sweetly, hoping he'll take the hint. He's not about to screw me over, let alone try to mess with what I'm doing here.

"Oh, I can go?" he responds rudely, but there's a hint of hesitation to his voice. "And my whole patrol squad can as well? That'll be nice when Evelyn marches up in here."

I nod at him. "It's all good. I've covered your shift. Have a nice day, Peter." I make sure to say his name pointedly, and I return my stare to my computer. I type out one final message to Karl, thanking him and his patrol squad for stepping up and heading in early. I also send a copy of Peter's patrol squad listing to myself, making a note that they all allegedly agreed to side with him and his stupid idea.

When I look up Peter is still staring at me, and his face has a pink flush to it.

"I don't need the day off," he speaks slowly, but I interrupt him.

"I don't have time for this," I tell him firmly. "I'm not interested in hearing any more about why you want my position or your pathetic attempt at blackmailing me into handing it over to you. Do you really think that Eric would believe for a second that I'd just walk away and suggest you take my place? After months of training with him?"

"No, but I do believe..." he starts up again, and I find myself not really caring.

"Go now, before I decide to call him and let him know about your insane demands." I hover my mouse over Eric's name on the messenger, internally debating what to do with it. I have half a mind to send him a message, but I don't really want to. I can handle Peter on my own, but there would be a certain satisfaction in knowing Eric would be pissed with Peter. "And as far as a new position goes, I suggest you find one where your head isn't up your ass."

With that, I stand and point at the office door.

"Thanks for stopping by." I smile again, watching the way his face turns bright red with anger. "You're going to regret this, Everly." He flips me off, then storms out without another word.

Once the door slams shut, I sit back down in my office chair and close my eyes. Never in a million years would I have thought Peter would come in and demand my position. When I open my eyes, they fall on the stack of folders on my desk, and I realize that Peter has eaten up a good chunk of my time to finish them.

I sigh heavily.

I would bet every point I have that Eric doesn't have to deal with this sort of shit.

 

 

A half an hour later Rylan starts laughing, full-on hysterically laughing, when I tell him what Peter wanted.

"Holy shit. Peter seriously thought you'd just tell Eric to let him take your place?" He wipes at his eyes and smiles as though this is the funniest news he's heard in his life. "Everyone is losing their damned minds today."

"Seriously," I mutter while doodling on the corner of the report I was working on. I put off emailing or messaging Eric. I badly want to text him, even just to ask him how things are going, but I know it would open up questions about the day, and I don't want him storming back here to kill Peter in broad daylight.

I'll let him wait until nighttime for that.

"Sorry, Everly. Being a leader can be pretty exciting, but then you get bullshit like this. You're lucky, in a way. Normally, we spend most of our time dealing with paperwork and security and making sure the threat level for all factions is low. You've gotten to break up a fight, singlehandedly beat back a mutiny, and now you get to finish all this paperwork."

I roll my eyes at him. I only have seven more reports to go before I'm done with all this mess. "Do you know what I'm supposed to do with Abnegation's response that increasing security patrols through their faction isn't completely necessary? I would think Marcus would be all over that."

Rylan makes a face and shakes his head. "No, but let me look at it."

An hour later, neither of us are any closer to finishing the damned report, and I realize that I don't know enough about it to make up a response to the issue. Security is one of our top priorities, and Marcus should be more than worried that Evelyn is still out there. Before I can ask Rylan if I can just leave this report for Eric, knowing full well he has little patience for said faction, Arlene knocks on my office door. My heart leaps for a moment, and I flash back to the last time she appeared in my office unprompted. A thousand terrible thoughts run through my mind, and all I can think of is Eric.

"Are you two busy right now?" She seems unusually frazzled, and it's a look I've never seen on her before. "I need a hand for a few minutes."

Rylan shakes his head. "Not at all. What's going on?"

Arlene sighs heavily, and I find myself nervous. There doesn't seem to be a lot that rattles Arlene. She rules the infirmary with an iron fist, she stomachs gallons of blood on a seemingly daily basis, and she isn't afraid to tell anyone anything, no matter how grim the situation.

So when she finally tells us Britney has somehow wandered out of the infirmary, I understand her weary look.

"You two will need to hurry," Arlene reiterates. "I have an infirmary full of patients and no time for this. She slipped out while I was getting lunch, and of course, no one is willing to admit who was responsible for her."

"We'll get right on it," I tell her, and she thanks us. She then stalks out of the office at an impressive rate, leaving Rylan and me standing there staring at each other in disbelief.

He shakes his head, the smile long gone from his face. "All I can say is goddamn, Jeremy better be spilling Evelyn's exact coordinates this second."

 

 

After an hour of walking through Dauntless, there's still no sign of Britney. Rylan looks as exasperated as I feel, and I'm starting to wish the other leaders were back.

"Where could she be?" He puts his hands on his hips and glances around the empty hallway. We've worked our way down to the third floor, and I'm expecting to locate Jason down here. At this point, one more person helping us look would give us better odds of finding her.

"We might as well go this way. We've wasted an hour already." I point down towards the brightly lit hallway and Rylan hesitates. "What, you don't want to look down here?"

He makes a face, and squints into the distance. "You know the daycare is up ahead. I don't think Britney would want to head down here."

"Maybe she's helping babysit?" I offer up, and it knocks the grimace off Rylan's face.

"Hilarious. I guess we have no other option but to check it out."

Ten minutes later, I know why Eric chose to send Karl here as a form of punishment. The daycare center is loud — ear-piercingly loud. It reminds me of the one in Amity, except these children seem much wilder.

The first room we enter is large; it extends further than I can imagine, and there are all sorts of structures for the kids to play on. I try to count them as they run by, but it's nearly impossible. There must be three dozen children here, all between the ages of one and four, and they are climbing everywhere. In some ways, come Choosing time, these children will no doubt have a leg up on anyone attempting to transfer into Dauntless. The room is set up with plenty of stuff for them to leap off of; there are plenty of play mats and squishy-looking furniture for these children who seem to have absolutely no fear.

"Have you... uh... seen anyone come through here lately?" We've been greeted by a girl looking strangely calm in the midst of the chaos. She is much taller than me, with long blonde hair that's messily braided to look like a Mohawk. She's pretty; she has bright blue eyes and a big smile, even though there is a small child who could be no more than two screaming beside her.

She patiently hands him a stuffed animal and waits until he takes it and shoves it into his mouth, growling before running off.

"Do you mean in addition to the volunteers? We've had a few people come through that might possibly be transferring to work here." She sounds nice; her voice is kind of soothing, and I imagine it comes in handy when dealing with shrieking children. "The last one arrived a few hours ago."

"Was her name Britney?" I ask, and the girl shrugs her shoulders.

"I didn't catch her name, but you can go ask. She walked a few of them into the next room to watch a movie." She looks at me more closely and hesitates before she speaks again. "Wait... aren't you Everly?"

"I am," I answer her, and she smiles back widely. Rylan raises his eyebrows at me, and he excuses himself politely.

"I'm gonna head over there and see if it's Britney. If not, I suggest we go back and try to meet up with Jason."

"Good idea," I tell him, really hoping Britney is next door. The girl and I both watch him walk away, deflecting a few small children that try to grasp onto his legs as he wades through the sea of toddlers. He tries to shake one off his leg, and I giggle at his frustration as the child seems to dig his nails into Rylan's pants.

"I thought that was you. I'm uh, I'm Karl's girlfriend. I've heard a lot about you." She looks a little bit nervous, even though she towers over me. "I'm Charlotte. Karl mentioned you two were in the same training class."

I flash back to the last patrol I was on. It couldn't have been more than a day ago when Karl was telling me he was going on a date. I'm impressed at how quickly he moves.

"It's nice to meet you," I tell her honestly, and I look up at her beaming face. "And we were, although we had different trainers. Karl was the only one who was really nice to me during initiation."

Charlotte nods and relaxes. "He told me everyone hated you because you had Eric as your trainer."

"Yeah, they made that clear. Eric did things a little differently than Four, and I know a lot of them wished they could train with Eric." Charlotte is momentarily distracted by the appearance of a young girl, and this one looks sleepy. She rubs at her eyes, then pulls on Charlotte's shirt until Charlotte picks her up.

"I had Lauren. She was fine. But I'd heard that anyone who had Eric anywhere near their training said it was the roughest experience of their lives. But you're married to him, right?" Her curiosity is completely different than everyone else's. There's something unassuming about her; she's calm and easygoing, and I don't feel like she's about to pry for any further details if I shut her down.

"Yes, we're married. I don't think a lot of people understand Eric or how he operates," I tell her, and she grins like I've shared some huge secret with her. She steps closer and looks around quickly, as though he could be lurking in the corner.

"I'd be terrified to train with him. It's not just that he's so scary, but he's also not bad to look at." Her cheeks turn pink, and I try to keep myself from laughing. Her own boyfriend resembles Eric somewhat. They share the same size and build, the same determination, though Karl is far nicer than Eric would ever dream of being.

"He's alright," I joke, shrugging as though Eric doesn't look as good as he does, and Charlotte laughs loudly, shifting the little girl in her arms.

"I really like Karl. He's just the sweetest guy I've ever met." She turns to glance back at the door, and I can see Rylan heading back toward us. "He always speaks very highly of you. I'm glad I got to finally meet you. My class had hoped we'd see you around when we were training, but you were always helping with Four's class."

"I don't think Lauren would have wanted my help," I tell her, trying to imagine myself walking into Lauren's class to assist her. I have a feeling it would go terribly; she doesn't seem to enjoy my presence whatsoever.

"She's a little boring. I found her to be rather dull, even though I know who she is. It seemed like you made your training class fun," Charlotte tells me, and then she takes a step back. "I've gotta put Maddie down for a nap. Otherwise, she'll be a grump when her parents come to get her. But it was really nice to meet you. I mean that."

"I'm glad I got to meet you as well," I tell her and I silently applaud Karl on managing to find a nice girl in Dauntless. Charlotte smiles one more time, walking away slowly with the little girl in her arms. I make a mental note to tell Eric that we should invite Charlotte and Karl over for dinner sometime.

A second later, Rylan comes to a halt beside me, and his face breaks into a wide grin. "She's here. She fell asleep during the movie. I already called Arlene and she'll be here in a few minutes."

"Oh, thank God," I tell him, relieved that we are no longer on Britney patrol. "I guess I can finally go back to my reports now."

Rylan laughs. "Excellent. Now let's get out of here before your new friend asks us to work here. There must be thirty more children in that other room."

 

 

The rest of the afternoon is blissfully, boringly quiet. There's not much of it left, and I spend it bent over my desk, filling out reports. I don't come close to finishing all of them, but I do get a large chunk of them done, and I feel rather accomplished as a result.

I finish entering the last page of the security measures report, pleased when I realize my responses and observations all sound like I really know what I'm doing. I move the mouse to select save, hesitating when the lights flicker.

They come back on full force, then flicker again. They do it repeatedly, each time taking longer and longer to come back on, and I start to feel a bit panicked. My thoughts immediately go where I don't want them to: Evelyn's finally attacking, and she's about to knock out the power grid. Or, we're under siege from her army and they've cut us off and literally put us in the dark.

Before I can spring into any sort of action, Rylan bursts through the door with a look of panic on his face.

"You notice that?" he asks, his question something more like what Jason would ask rather than Rylan. The lights flicker again, and then there is a strange, low hum that vibrates through the air.

"The power transformer is going down. The control room called and said they saw someone backing into it outside. There's an emergency backup that will kick in, but it will only power the emergency lights and critical infirmary equipment." He says the words quickly, and I turn to my computer. I move the mouse back to the corner, and I let out a loud shriek when the computer powers itself off as the lights turn off for good.

"No," I gasp, my work vanishing before my very eyes. "No, no, no, no!"

"Everly!" Rylan yells my name, though I'm no more than a few feet away from him. "Forget that. We've gotta head outside and get the backup generators running. If we don't, we lose all power to the compound, including the control room, all the security cameras, and even the electronic locks won't work."

I wait for my eyes to adjust to the near darkness, and a second later I can make out Rylan's form.

"Okay," I tell him, glancing back at the computer. It hasn't magically powered itself back on, and my work is long gone. "I'll go with you."

I don't even know where we're going, but I do know I'm definitely not finishing the reports before Eric gets back.

 

I wipe sweat out of my eyes.

"Is it functioning?"

Rylan shakes his head at me, pushing his hair off his forehead. "Try pushing that button again, and hold it in place. It's supposed to reset it."

We walked out of Dauntless into a hot and sticky afternoon. I immediately wished I'd worn something lighter, because it felt like we had walked into a sauna. The backup generators aren't far from the main compound, but they're directly in the sun, and after ten minutes I started to feel much too warm.

"I am pushing it." I sound cranky as I push the button marked Emergency Reset again. For the past hour, power to the control room and the security cameras has been off, and Kacie has called Rylan no less than six times to shriek loudly in his ear that their systems are down. She can't monitor anything, and the cameras aren't recording. Even my patient explanation that we are working on it is falling on deaf ears. She's hung up on me, and I refuse to answer any more of her calls. "Is there anyone else who knows how these work?"

To me, the generators look like something that an engineer from Erudite would have had a field day designing. They are large squares with all kinds of switches and labels, but none of them make sense to me. I came along with Rylan hoping this would be self-explanatory, but this is not my forte. To make it even better, the power transformer that someone backed into seems completely worthless. It's dented in, banged up beyond recognition, and it sits there sort of mockingly.

"Maybe we should call Eric," I suggest, growing frustrated. But Rylan shakes his head and swears.

"I tried. He didn't answer." He grunts as he tries to maneuver a lever upwards, but it seems stuck in place. "Fuck, this isn't working. I don't know why these damned things can't just come on automatically. I think we should order new ones."

I stare at him, wondering if he's lost his mind. The entire faction is without power, and Rylan is casually suggesting we call up whoever worked on these and order some more.

"How long does that take?" I walk around to the side he's working on, watching him try to wrench the lever upright.

"I don't know. A week, maybe?" He wipes his forehead with his arm, and when he looks up, his face is bright red. "Fuck this day. Max is gonna kill whoever backed into this." He takes a step back and kicks the dirt angrily. "I don't even know who backed into it because the security cameras aren't working."

I want to point out that there's a way to find out who did it. I know the trucks are signed in and out, and there typically aren't more than a few of them in use at a time. It would be easy to find out who had access to them today, but it's not particularly helpful right now.

But I do see something that might be sort of helpful.

I step forward, and I let my fingers touch the generator. It's hot, blisteringly so under the sun, but I ignore the feeling. I push the button marked Release, and then I grasp the same lever Rylan's been trying to pull upright. It slides up easily, and I watch as Rylan opens his mouth, but no words come out.

There is a whirling sound as the lights on the box begin to blink. I wait until the final one turns green and then I stand up, brushing my hair out of my face. There are whoops of cheering coming from somewhere, and I step to the next backup generator. I repeat the process, and when I'm done, I turn a pleading look at Rylan.

"Can we go back now? I want to take a shower."

Rylan stares at me, his eyes wide and an embarrassed look on his face. He doesn't say anything, he just nods his head.

 

 

Eric's shower is the best and most magical place I have ever experienced. I take as long as I please, scrubbing dirt and sweat out of my hair until it is clean and tangle-free. I use the sweet-smelling soap Eric had surprisingly and thoughtfully remembered to pick up, watching the bubbles go down the drain along with this day.

I try not to let myself focus on it for too long.

I didn't hate it, and it wasn't like the things that happened were beyond what I could handle. It was just that it was exhausting. How Eric ever managed to handle all of this, plus train me, is beyond my comprehension. I feel better as I turn the shower off, but I can't help but feel some dread blossoming up as I think about doing this — every day — for the rest of my life.

I wrap myself in a towel that smells like Eric, and I think of the way Chad and his friend called me 'little girl', and the way Peter thought he could just overpower and bully me into giving him my position. I need a bigger presence here, and that won't happen until people think I'm free of Eric's protection.

The problem is, I don't want to be free from Eric because I'm not trapped by him. I chose him the same way he chose me.

I decide I will think about all of this later. In my exhausted mind, the only thing that sounds good is lying down and collapsing into our bed for a few minutes. I throw on a pair of underwear, tie my hair up in a bun, and set an alarm on my phone for half an hour later. I just need to close my eyes for a few minutes, and then I'll head down to find Jason and Rylan; hopefully Eric will be back by then, and he'll fill us in on what happened with Jeremy.

I climb into our bed, shoving back the freshly-washed sheets, and curl myself onto Eric's side. My head doesn't even hit the pillow before my eyes are closing and I feel myself fall asleep, surrounded by the comforting smell of Eric.

 

 

I'm roused from sleep by someone moving the hair off my face, their fingers skimming my skin softly as they attempt to wake me up. I blink a few times, slowly realizing with a wave of rising panic that not only did I sleep through my alarm, but that the fingers belong to my husband, who is sitting on the bed beside me, reclined on his side.

Eric is smiling, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, they look angry and narrow; and for one excruciating moment I think it's because I've managed to fall asleep — then oversleep — during the one day that I'm supposed to be filling in for him. Plenty of lame excuses work their way through my mind, but none of them are actually good enough. Even explaining that I just felt tired after my day is hardly acceptable. He'd have suggested I try more coffee, or jog a few laps until I felt more alert.

I close my eyes tightly and pretend there is a slim chance he'll just go away. I feel him shift closer to me, and I know I'm screwed.

"Hi, Eric." I whisper the words with my eyes shut.

"Hi, Everly." He sounds less vicious than I was expecting, and I pry my eyes open to find him staring right at me. "Did you have a good day?"

I push myself up onto one elbow, mimicking the way he's lying beside me, and I take in the serious expression on his face. He's still fully dressed from the trial, and his grey eyes look almost bothered.

"Yeah, it was interesting." I rub the sleep from my eyes and try to look like I've actually been productive today and not blissfully asleep for the past few hours. "Um... a lot happened."

"I know," Eric responds, raising a pierced eyebrow at me. "I heard quite a bit about it."

"What time is it?" I pull the sheets up with me, realizing I didn't even bother to get dressed after my shower. "I didn't mean to oversleep. I set an alarm."

He smiles at me again, and this time there is familiar affection behind it. Eric's eyes trail over my bare shoulders, though there's nothing there that he hasn't seen plenty of times. "It's only six, Everly. It's not that late." I watch him for a second before he relaxes beside me. "Rylan called. He and Jason couldn't find you, and you didn't answer when they knocked."

Oh shit.

I must have been pretty deeply asleep to not hear them knocking.

"What you do mean you heard about it? And Rylan called you? Why?" My panic from before is replaced by a creeping horror. The thought of Rylan calling Eric to tell him I couldn't handle today, and that'd I gone off and fallen asleep and left Rylan with only Jason's help, is not pleasant.

Eric frowns again and this time he reaches out to touch my arm. His fingers are warm, trailing down my skin until he stops at my fingers. "They called to let me know they couldn't find you. After what happened in your meeting with Peter they panicked, thinking something had happened to you. So I headed back here as soon as Rylan called."

I feel like the air has been sucked out of me. He thought I was gone, again.

I lean forward so I can move closer to him. "Did they tell you Peter tried to blackmail me? He threatened to have his patrol squad walk out if I didn't give him my position in your program." I'm still stunned just thinking about Peter and the way he so clearly thought I would just give in. "I wasn't about to just let him tell me what to do, so I called his bluff. I told him and his squad to take the rest of the day off without pay, and had Karl and his squad cover for them."

Eric frowns again, but he's distracted by his phone beeping from beside him. He sighs heavily before he answers it with a sharp 'hello'. I wait patiently while he talks with someone, noting the way his jaw clenches and he tilts his head back toward me. "Alright, I'll be there soon."

"Who was that?" I ask him as he tosses the phone aside. It lands somewhere on his nightstand with a loud thud.

"Four. They have the security tapes up from before the cameras went out, finally. I want to review it to see if we can figure out who backed into the power transformer, but I really needed to find you first." His slightly anxious expression hardens back into a sneer. "I've been waiting for that call about the security footage for a while now." Eric doesn't look impressed; he probably expected the footage would have been ready and waiting for him here at home, rather than having to wait on Four to pull it for him.

"Well, I'm glad you're home," I tell him honestly, and he smirks in response.

"I'd be much happier to be home if I didn't have to make you get dressed to come with me." He's only half teasing, and I want nothing more than to pull him into bed and on top of me. Instead, I sit upright and shrug.

"Can Four just send you the footage? Then we could stay here." I know I sound hopeful. It sounds like a much better option to me, but my hopes are crushed the minute Eric shakes his head.

"As much as I'd like to avoid spending any time with Four this evening, we're meeting Max there as well."

With that, he extends his hand towards me. I take it, kneeling on the bed, and I grin when he pulls me flush against him. His jacket is warm and rough against my bare skin, and I wish he had time to take it off. "Fine. I guess I'll get dressed." I lean up to kiss him, glad to have him here, right in front of me after this day.

He smiles against my lips, breaking apart all too soon for my liking.

 

 

His good mood is fleeting.

"I thought you said you had the footage ready." Eric's voice is a dark snarl, and nearly everyone in the control room winces. They haven't had the easiest of afternoons; after all, for nearly an hour their cameras were taken offline, the power failure rendering them useless. Eric was convinced the transformer had been damaged on purpose, something I didn't quite understand until he explained that it was highly suspicious that someone was even driving back there.

"I did. Someone clicked out of it." Four's voice sounds just as tense as Eric's, and I can see Kacie pressing her lips together in displeasure. She looks tired; her blonde hair looks like she's been pulling on it, and even now she yanks on the ends in frustration as she surveys the group of people crowding around the monitors.

"No, the next section," she tells Four, watching him like a hawk as he clicks through different frames.

I'm standing off to the side to give them some room. The minute we walked into the control room, Eric was whisked away by Harrison and Tori. Tori looked unhappy as they walked past me, and I overheard her saying something about this whole thing being very well thought out. She must have shared the same thoughts as Eric.

Four clicks away, and Kacie nearly loses it when he clicks too far ahead.

"That blank space is where everything goes offline," she points out, sounding anything but nice.

"I'm well aware of when the cameras went down. I was sitting right here." Four's response is testy, and for a long moment he and Kacie simply glare at each other before he resumes whatever he was doing.

Rylan moves next to me and throws his arm around my neck. "Thank God you're alive. I know Eric has mentioned that you possess the ability to fall sound asleep at any given moment, but I seriously thought something had happened to you. Jason and I banged on your door for at least ten minutes."

"Rylan, I'm so sorry." I try to glance up at him, but his arm is restricting my view. He walks me along with him, and we weave through the people standing around the monitors to find a better vantage point. "I didn't mean to worry you guys. And I didn't mean to leave you alone. I never even finished my shift."

"Hey, don't sweat it. I don't even care. I'm just glad you're alright. And don't worry about the rest of the day. We got your back," Rylan announces breezily. He doesn't seem the least bit mad, and neither does Jason. He rounds a corner with a large coffee in hand, and he waves enthusiastically at the sight of us.

"Oh, good! Everly, you're here!" he announces gleefully, nearly crashing into Max. He steadies himself, managing to salute Max with the hand holding his coffee cup, and smiles widely. "I can't wait to see who the moron is that needs driving lessons."

Rylan removes his arm as we stop just to the side of Four. On the screen in front of him is a perfectly clear view of the back of Dauntless. The transformer and backup generators are in direct sight; for several minutes, the room is quiet while absolutely nothing happens.

The screen stays the same, except for the ticking numbers in the corner that track the time.

"Well… this is exciting," Jason offers up, and Four throws him a venomous look.

"There." Four points to the screen, and I have to stand on my tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the truck in the corner. It's nothing special, just one of the large Dauntless work trucks that I've seen being driven around here plenty of times. The truck swings around as if to line itself up with something, then speeds up as it suddenly reverses.

"Oh, shit!" Rylan blurts out, as we watch the truck deliberately slam back into the transformer. It lurches forward, then reverses again, hitting the transformer a second time. The transformer begins to spark, and the door to the truck opens. A figure jumps out, walking over to inspect the damage. The video feed begins to flicker wildly, then a moment later, the camera shuts off, leaving the screen black.

"Well, I'll be damned." Max's voice comes from beside me. "Was that…?"

He doesn't say anything more as Eric nearly knocks him out of the way. Eric's face contorts into something filled with malicious rage. His jaw tenses as his eyes flit from the screen over to me, and he blinks once. He then snarls his words in the most venomous tone I've heard so far.

"Someone get squad eight in my office right now."


	49. Daniel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks to BK2U for your assistance and editing on this chapter. I appreciate your help tremendously!
> 
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> Thanks to everyone for your patience for this chapter :)

Eric's rage is well-deserved.

I glare at the monitor, imagining a very pleased Peter slinking away from the trucks after purposely trying to destroy my life here. How great would it have been for him had his plan worked? Had I not been able to help fix the power, had the security cameras been rendered useless before they had a chance to record his face, Peter would be off gloating somewhere, relishing in his victory and ready to step into my place.

But he's not, and he certainly won't be as long as I have anything to say about it.

Eric grabs my elbow, tightening his grip until I break away from the monitor and look up at him. The expression on his face is dark enough to make me wonder if he'll snap Peter's neck on sight.

"Looks like Peter and I need to have a long talk." His words are piercing as he steps closer to me. "He's dumber than I thought."

"I want to be there when you talk with him and the squad," I tell him, and he half smiles at me, his lips curling into a sneer. "Of course you'll be there." Eric lifts his head and looks around the control room briefly.

"I want a copy of this footage sent to both Max and me," Eric barks loudly, and one of the technicians responds with a quick, "Yes, sir!"

"Eric." He's interrupted by Max coming back towards us; the pissed off expression on his face only seems to get worse the longer he stands there. "I want all of them suspended. Every last one of them," he announces. "We'll deal with Peter separately."

"Those idiots will consider themselves lucky to get off with just a suspension after I'm finished with them," Eric sneers.

"Why the whole squad?" Kacie cocks her head to the side. She's been listening intently, and I'd almost forgotten she was standing there.

Eric stares at Kacie in disgust. "The whole squad will be dealt with because Peter threatened Everly with their allegiance to him. Now they get to answer to me for their insubordination." His tone is nasty as he glowers at Kacie, but I can't tell if it's because of her nosy question or because of Peter's treasonous actions. Maybe it's a combination of both.

Kacie stares at me for a beat, nodding thoughtfully. "Stupid on their part," she finally offers up. "Alright, Glenn will send you the footage right away. Do you need anything else?"

He shakes his head no, and Max beckons for Eric to follow him out of there. "Let's talk while we walk to your office. I want to go over a few things with just you."

"Fine. Everly, meet us there when you're done," Eric announces. I nod at him; I'd been planning to stay here for a minute anyway.

They turn to leave while the control room is in a blur of activity, but I turn my attention back to Kacie. She looks taken aback by the events she just witnessed, and her eyes meet mine. There's an anger behind them, and I know it's not just for Peter trying to screw me over. He could have put Kacie in deep trouble as well; she's one of the few that are fully responsible for what goes on in the control room. I can easily imagine the panic on her face as her security systems went down one by one, rendering her helpless.

"Everly?" Kacie asks, tapping her nails near the keyboard and turning to look back at the screen. "You really want to be there when he…?"

"Kills Peter?" I interrupt, and I hear someone snort from a few seats down. "Without a doubt. I'll join him in a minute."

She nods. "I had no idea that Peter planned all this. I was trying to help one of the newer transfers, and when I looked up the screens were black." She pauses, biting her lip as though she's saying too much. I have a feeling she doesn't really want to admit that what happened could have been bad for all of us. "I feel partially responsible, like I let you down. I should have been watching the other screens. If there's anything I can do to... uh... make it up to you…"

She trails off, unsure of herself for once.

I think quickly, and decide to use her rare hesitation to my advantage.

"Actually, there is something you can do to help me," I respond, and she nods eagerly.

"Anything."

Fifteen minutes later, Kacie has reluctantly redone her schedules. She protested at first, unwilling to give up one of her better control room staffers, but I didn't back down. It didn't take long before she realized I wasn't about to let this go, and that I'd eventually just instruct her to do it anyway. So when she finally looks up from the paper copy in front of her, I smile widely, pleased with the changes.

Tris is now set to work a normal schedule of eight to four, which also holds the perk of overlapping with Four's hours a few times a week.

"I can just…. um… put this one here." Kacie neatly writes a few names over Tris's, still not thrilled with the adjustments. She moved some of the new recruits to fill in the odd shifts, and I got her to agree that they should work their way up to a better schedule. I can tell she isn't ecstatic about the changes — they mean she'll have to do more training, but she doesn't really have any other options right now.

"Thank you," I tell her, and she smiles, sort of.

"You're welcome," she answers, and for once she sounds genuine and polite.

It doesn't last long.

"Everly, can I ask you something? You and Tris are really good friends, aren't you?"

She waits for me to nod my head yes as though she isn't already aware of that fact.

"And Eric is okay with that? With her and Four? Do you guys all hang out together? I thought Eric hated Four," she pries, unable to resist a moment longer. I try hard not to glare at her, realizing the woman will never be capable of not opening her mouth.

Instead, I look her directly in her eyes. "Of course he is. He's good with whatever I'm good with."

I say the words firmly, and I suddenly realize they've never been more true.

 

Peter looks pale.

He stands in Eric's office with his spine ramrod straight, his hands clamped together tightly, and he swallows nervously. He should be nervous. Very nervous. The rest of his patrol squad looks equally uneasy, and they all but duck their heads down when I walk in the door, flattening themselves against the wall of Eric's office.

It's later than I'd wanted to get here, but I took a few extra minutes in the control room to talk with Tris. She was grateful and relieved when I told her Kacie agreed to change her schedule. When I told her about Peter, her face turned serious and she pulled me aside to fill me in on something that I'd never heard before. Her words were spoken quietly, but they were filled with a deep-seated anger that stemmed from her own experiences with Peter. He'd tried to take her out, but in an entirely different way.

I had left the control room with my hands balled into fists and immediately called Eric. I wanted to talk to him without Peter there, and I wasn't sure when he'd be brought before the leaders. Luckily for me, Eric answered quickly, and he stayed silent as I repeated what Tris had told me. I asked him if he'd heard of what had happened during her training — Peter attacking her and trying to kill her by throwing her over the railing and into the chasm — and Eric had reluctantly told me 'no'.

"I was doing a lot of other things besides helping train her class. If something was brought to me by Max, Four, or one of the initiates, I wouldn't have had much interest in it. And no one from that class was about to come tell me anything."

I understood. "I don't want him here anymore. Not just for me. But for Tris, too."

Eric sighed heavily, and his voice sounded far away on the phone. "Don't worry. He'll be gone before we go to bed." There was a beat of silence as I rounded a corner and headed toward the stairs. "You know I don't like when people mess with what's mine."

I'd found myself smiling in the middle of the dark hallway, something wide and syrupy, but I couldn't help it. Eric has never been more handsome to me than when he's like this — dark and brooding, but for all the right reasons.

But I'm not smiling now.

I walk across the room with my head held high, coming to a stop beside Eric and mirroring Peter's position. His eyes skate over me several times, each pass landing anywhere but my eyes. It's funny how unassertive he is now, when faced with both Eric and me. The addition of Max and Harrison, both tired and cranky-looking, only adds to Peter's unease.

"Thanks for joining us," Eric announces coolly, and to his credit, Peter stays totally still. "I'm sorry to prolong your evening further, but we have just one more thing to take care of tonight."

Max sips his coffee, waving his hand impatiently. "Get on with it, Eric. I'd like to eat dinner sometime tonight."

Eric glares at him out of the corner of his eye, but he steps forward and walks over to Peter. He circles around behind him, eyeing him as though he's inspecting him. The rest of his squad stay perfectly still, neatly lined up in a row. I notice a few of them swallowing nervously, hoping to avoid Eric's intense scrutiny.

"You have some explaining to do," Eric drawls, letting the words sink in. "There was a little incident this afternoon, and I want to get your side of the story before I deal with it."

Peter forces a smile onto his face. "If you're talking about the power outage, I can assure you it was an inconvenience to us as well. All of my security systems went down. Kinda nerve-wracking when you consider who was left in charge of our faction," he answers lightly, and his stare lands on me for a split second. "But everything worked out for the best. We seem to have power again."

I can't wait for Eric to wipe that smile right off of Peter's smug face.

But Eric simply smiles darkly. "Tell me what you know about the power outage. The timing of it is just a little too… convenient."

Peter shrugs. "Convenient to what? That it happened while Everly was in charge? Maybe she did something to it."

In that moment, I know he thinks he's gotten away with it. That he stupidly doesn't think there's any video evidence, and that he thinks he's gonna bullshit his way through this discussion.

Eric turns his sharp glare to the men behind Peter and one of them visibly flinches. Eric notices immediately. "You." He points to the youngest-looking one; the kid looks ready to throw up. "What's your name?"

"Zach," the squad member answers, sounding far too unsure of his own name; his voice cracks under Eric's icy stare. "It's Zach, sir."

"Zach," Eric repeats nastily. "You want to tell me about your plans to just walk out on your shift this afternoon?"

Zach bites his lip, and the remorse on his face looks painful. "I uh... I… I wasn't going to leave, I wouldn't just leave my post." He looks at the men beside him nervously, probably praying they'll back him up or at least keep their mouths shut.

"That's not what I heard. I heard you all have a very specific loyalty to your patrol leader here," Eric prods, standing directly in front of Zach now. He pulls himself to his full height, and Zach has to really look up to make eye contact.

"I was just doing what I was told to do, sir." Zach's words sound terrified, wavering at the end.

I see Peter looking at me out of the corner of his eye, and I can tell he's working hard to keep his expression neutral.

"We uh... we were told Everly's having some issues following protocol. That it's part of our job here to protect our faction and that she isn't concerned about what's going on. We were told it's up to us to do what's necessary in the event of an attack, and that our orders come from Peter. That we don't have to listen to her because she doesn't know what to do." Zach manages to say the words with zero confidence behind them, and I can only assume he's realizing how stupid they sound.

Eric doesn't look at me. He smiles at Zach, and waves him back a step. "You must be new. Remind me to go over the proper protocol for what should happen when someone tries to overthrow the leadership around here."

Zach nods, blinking furiously.

"Were you all given the same… advice?" Eric asks the rest of the squad, watching them nod one by one. A few look red now, and some of the more veteran members have a look of utter regret. "And would you have done it?"

They glance at each other; some shake their heads no, but there are a few that nod. I can only assume they're too terrified to lie to Eric's face.

"You're all suspended without pay for the rest of the week. Don't show your face anywhere near me unless you'd like to be reassigned to a position on the janitorial staff. You can get out. All of you, except for Peter."

The rest of the patrol squad look stunned, but in reality they've gotten off lightly for being a part of Peter's agenda. They slink out of the room quickly, heads down, and not a single one of them looks back.

"And now, for you," Eric announces flatly, turning his full attention back to Peter. "You care to explain Everly's lack of knowledge?"

Peter narrows his eyes at me. "Everly and I had a little discussion about her leadership potential because, let's face it, everyone knows she hasn't got a clue how to run Dauntless. We clearly didn't come to an agreement, and she pulled her nonexistent rank over me." He pauses to look over at Max and Harrison before looking directly at Eric. His next words make me think he's far braver than I'd given him credit for. "Don't you think it's time someone rein your wife in, Eric?"

Eric's expression changes, and I can't tell if he's amused or irate. I go with irate, but Peter had better pray he's amused.

"We all know she's only in a leadership position because you put her there. And we all know you prefer to keep her where you can see her — right next to you at all times. It's cute, sure. I get it. All I suggested was that Everly step down, go back to being your little tag-along, and that I could step in. I'm actually trying to help you out here. You'd need me if anything happens." Peter stops talking before I can take a cue from Four and break Peter's nose.

My blood boils.

How dare he.

"Screw you," I find myself snapping, and Harrison's hand touches my arm. I realize he thinks I'll go after Peter, but for now I stay put.

"And you just so kindly took it upon yourself to suggest this?" Eric asks him. He's come back around, and he stops in front of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just a harmless conversation between you and Everly."

My stomach drops at his tone and I'm not even the one in trouble. Eric sounds dangerous — lethal and nasty — and if I were Peter, I'd probably just suggest that I see myself out of here before Eric murders me.

Next to me, Max cocks his head to the side, and I realize he's waiting to see how Peter responds. It would be better for Peter to tell the truth, to confess everything, to apologize and hope that the worst Eric does is assign him to some trivial position for the rest of his days here.

Instead, Peter shrugs. "Everly is a little oversensitive. She clearly took what I said the wrong way."

"Like the same wrong way you drove that truck. Right back into our power transformer." Eric's words have turned dark and low, spoken with malice. "Hard enough to make sure that it went out. Rendering your own faction… defenseless."

Peter balks, but Eric isn't finished.

"Powerless. Unguarded. Opening the door for anyone to walk right through. Even though you are well aware of just how high of an alert we are on." Eric rocks back on his heels, and his lips curl up cruelly. "I mean, why not just invite Evelyn to walk right into the compound? As our newly self-appointed leader, you'd know exactly what to do, right? You'd have enough men willing to listen to you throw orders at them, right? You've clearly got a plan in mind."

"I uh…" Peter fumbles, and I notice he's gone completely ashen. "I didn't uh…I mean…"

"Eloquent," Eric snaps. "And this isn't the first time you've gone after someone that you deemed weaker than you. Out of fear, perhaps?"

This time Peter blanches, and I know what's coming.

"You're done here," Eric announces, clasping his hands behind his back. I watch the way the muscles in his arms tighten, and I don't doubt he's having a hard time not smashing his fist into Peter's pale face. "Everly…" he pauses, "And Tris are far braver than you'll ever be."

His words are laced with mockery, but I take no offense to it. Peter should hardly have been threatened by me or Tris, but he clearly was. In front of me he stays perfectly still, like he's holding his breath. I know the memory is there, and I wonder if he feels any guilt over it.

"What do either of them know about being brave?" Peter finally sneers. "Funny that your downfall will be at the hands of your own initiate. She should have stayed that way."

Eric flexes his hands before he balls them into fists. "I suggest you shut your mouth. I'm not really interested in hearing your opinions. But if you want to keep talking, by all means, go ahead. I can make you disappear just as easily as you were thinking you'd make Everly disappear."

Peter scoffs. "So that's it? I'm... what? Out of the faction? I don't get to watch Everly march us all to our deaths? Sounds like a deal to me."

Eric's rage, so well-controlled until now, is finally unleashed: he punches Peter hard in the ribs in a punishing combination that has Peter bent over double and gasping for air. Eric backs away from him with a satisfied smirk, content to watch as Peter struggles to catch his breath.

"You'll be escorted out. We do have a parting gift, though," Eric continues on, and he clasps his hands behind his back. Max glances at his watch, and then at the door. Only a few seconds pass, then Four appears with some sort of impeccable timing. He gives me a friendly nod when he sees me. He stops beside Peter, who's still clutching his ribs, and I swear there's a ghost of a smile that crosses his lips. Before Peter can utter a sound, Four takes hold of him and roughly jams something into his neck.

"Tracking device," Four announces, violently shoving Peter away from him. "That should stop you from joining forces with anyone who may offer you a place amongst them."

Peter wipes at his neck with a shocked look on his face. I can't turn away; this side of Four is something new and different. I've only ever seen the calm, patient man that sternly leads the training classes, never letting the initiates get to him. But in the past couple of days, I've watched him first punch out Jeremy and now take out some well-earned aggression on Peter, too.

"Fuck you," Peter spits out, rubbing at the rapidly reddening mark. "You can't be serious."

"Dead serious," Four answers, as he walks over to stand beside Eric.

For a moment, the scene seems surreal. It's a rare sight before me: Eric and Four standing next to each other, mirror images in their stances and expressions, save for the sneer blossoming on Eric's face.

"Get out," Eric spits at Peter.

Peter's protests are nothing more than fury-filled squawks that are incoherent. "Wait! There has to be something else…"

"Now," Four adds, crossing his arms over his chest. "Before we decide we've been too lenient with you."

"You bitch... You'll pay for this!" Peter throws me a dark look, but I don't feel a flicker of fear in me at his weak threat. I almost feel sad for him, cowardly man that he is, and it's hard for me to resist the urge to cheerfully wave goodbye.

Instead, when he turns his head back toward Eric and Four, I step forward and punch his face as hard I can. Not a single person in the room stops me. I hit him again, pleased when he stumbles back, letting out a bark of pain. My fist hurts something fierce, so I kick him in the groin, and he drops to his knees. I stop abruptly, deciding he doesn't deserve another second of my attention.

"Good riddance," I tell him, and the relief I feel, knowing he will never be welcome in Dauntless again, is overwhelming.

 

"So, where is she? Did Jeremy tell you?"

The question seems simple enough; now that we've efficiently handled Peter, there are only a few more things on my to do list today. Finding out where Evelyn is hiding is one of them.

I sit on our bed, staring down at my reddened knuckles while waiting for Eric to answer. I haven't had a chance to really talk to him since he came back from Candor. I wanted to ask him as soon he returned, but my impromptu nap and the banishment of Peter had distracted me. Eric and I walked home shortly after making sure Peter was escorted from the compound, and now I find myself crossing my legs on the bed and staring at the back of his head. Eric has taken off the heavy jacket he had on this morning, and he reaches for the collar of his dark shirt.

"He didn't know." Eric's tone is filled with annoyance. He easily yanks the shirt over his head and turns back to look at me. "The location he gave us was abandoned. She'd clearly been there at some point, but she's gone now. She's smart. When Jeremy didn't come back, she knew something was up and they fled."

The dread is white hot.

"What? No!" I gasp at him and he shakes his head.

"I was hoping it'd be easier. He's been coming in here to steal supplies for her army off and on for a while now. It's only because you saw him that we caught him."

A sick feeling washes over me. My relief from earlier is vanishing and I try to hold onto it any way I can.

"He's been back in here before? Since he left?" I ask, and Eric nods slowly. He turns back around, stretching his neck from side to side. I watch the muscles in his back contract, then loosen as he lets his head hang forward for a second.

"He's been taking things to her. Weapons. Ammunition. Whatever he could get his hands on." He says the words sharply, not at all aimed at me, but I cringe all the same. I can picture Jeremy, slinking through our dark hallways, knowing exactly where to go and what to take.

The idea makes me frown; I think back to the inventory report I worked on this morning. Some of it hadn't matched, but I didn't know enough about it to understand the implications. I crawl towards the edge of the bed, coming to rest behind Eric. I place my hands on his shoulders, frowning when he tenses up.

"Eric," I whisper, and he relaxes somewhat.

"We'll find her, Everly," he promises, and I lean forward, letting my hands slip around his neck. He leans back into me, his head resting against mine. "I'm working on it. I won't let her make it out of this alive."

He reaches behind me to grasp the back of my head and he exhales slowly. "There are only so many places she can go before we find her."

"How did Jeremy know he could take all that stuff without anyone figuring it out? Before the power failure hit and I lost all my work, I did notice that the inventory report you left for me didn't match up." I unwind my arms from him, pulling back. He turns to look at me, pressing his lips together tightly. He looks uncomfortable, maybe even a little guilty. "He obviously knows more about how Dauntless works than I do, because before today, I didn't even know we did an inventory of the armory."

Eric's face darkens but he shakes it off in a dismissive manner. "Don't worry about the reports. The computer saves your work automatically. And weapons inventory was a part of Jeremy's training. Eventually you will have to train to inventory the armory. I didn't deem it to be of any pressing importance. And he was able to do it because the person in charge of it let him walk right through."

"Who? Who did that?" I can't wait to hear who it was. The idea is annoying, infuriating even. There isn't a person in Dauntless who shouldn't be aware of what's going on outside. I can't even imagine who was careless enough to not notice Jeremy helping himself to whatever he pleased and then walking out the door with it.

I wait patiently, then Eric exhales sharply.

"Britney."

Oh. Shit.

I sink back onto my heels.

"It's what led to her meltdown. It's not like she was ever all that great with math to begin with, but she was completely oblivious to the thefts until she finally managed to put her phone down long enough to realize her inventory count was off. We put two and two together. He was smart enough to slide in with patrols that were manned by newer guards, and smart enough to know Britney wasn't paying any attention to him."

He stands and undoes his belt buckle. I finally understand Britney's urge to hurl herself off the chasm. She must have been panic-stricken when she realized that weapons were being stolen right out from under her nose, and petrified of what would happen to her when Eric realized just how this entire situation had gone down.

"What happens now?" I ask, staring up at him. He looks intense, his features steeled into something unreadable.

"We go to bed. In the morning, we'll meet with the others to decide how we go about hunting Evelyn down. We'll also decide what to do with Britney and Jeremy."

I don't want to really think about either of them, but I know that's not an option.

"Max will ask you how you feel about stepping in for Britney, I'm sure," Eric continues, and his eyes lock onto mine.

"I don't know anything about the armory," I blurt out, knowing full well that's not what he means. He sort of laughs, amused by my response.

"We've already got someone covering it. I didn't have you train there because I would never stick you there." For the moment, Eric stills, and then he finally smiles at me. "I haven't exactly been fair to you with your training, you know."

I look at him curiously, dying for him to continue.

I'm not stupid. My own thoughts had been filled with the same shaky idea that I don't know enough to lead Dauntless. Not by my own fault, but by the hand of Eric, guiding me where he wanted me. I'd come to realize what he liked and what he wanted. He liked me, and he wanted me, but with him. He wanted me someplace where he could make sure I was alright, easily keeping tabs on my every movement. For once it wasn't because of someone trying to control me — he just simply wanted to keep me alive and safe.

Eric also wanted me to be happy, which was precisely why he hadn't made me sit through most of the leadership training. I can still remember Max rattling the list of requirements off. Tactical planning, battle strategy, continued combat training.

It was endless.

So Eric had carefully crafted my training around what suited us best, but the truth is that there is still so much that I don't know. And after today, I've realized just what this job entails, and it's a lot more than I'm currently prepared to handle.

"I did notice you haven't made me train with Lauren," I point out, unwinding my legs from beneath me. I've picked out the lamest point possible, but it's still something I've wondered about, and Eric seems willing to talk about it. I watch his reaction carefully, noting the way he seems to be suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "I know Max mentioned I was supposed to."

"Max says a lot of things. You've had enough training with Four. Putting you with Lauren would be pointless. You've already shown us you can train the initiates. If the need arose, I wouldn't hesitate at all to put you in charge of a class."

"You mean if something were to happen to Four?" I ask, wondering if only Lauren can train the Dauntless-born.

"We could only be so lucky," Eric responds dryly. My eyes fall to his bare legs, and he smirks.

The room is quiet, except for a tiny beep that somehow seems extra loud.

"He's not that bad, Eric. He's..." I trail off when I realize Eric isn't listening. He's staring at his phone on the bed in front of me. "Eric?"

He looks up, grey eyes less icy than they were when he came back in here. "That's debatable. I'm gonna brush my teeth, then we'll go to bed." He walks away without another glance at his phone. It beeps one more time, and I recline back onto the bed as a strange feeling washes over me.

On the one hand, I feel like I've won some sort of battle without even trying. Eric kicked Peter out of Dauntless, and he wasn't mad that I managed to fall asleep during my day in charge.

On the other hand, I have no idea what will happen tomorrow, and I have a feeling I'll be stuck right in the middle of it.

 

"Where is she? Is she here?"

Tris's voice sounds odd, strained and panicky, and it should be seeing as how it's incredibly late at night. The knock on the door had been surprising, though I half expected it to be Four. Instead, I found Tris standing there with her hands full of papers and a worried look on her face. I'd been asleep when the knocking started, and I'd found myself more than a little unwilling to rip myself away from the warmth of Eric.

But he flat out refused to answer the door, claiming he was too tired, so I grumpily climbed out of our bed and walked towards the living room and flung the door open.

Now, Tris slips past me the same way Four slipped past Eric. She walks herself past the kitchen and sits down before she looks up at me. "Four said they went to Candor to question Jeremy. And he said Peter's gone? What happened? And where is Evelyn?"

Her questions come rapid fire, but it's a welcome change from her recent zoned-out persona. Just knowing she has a normal shift again seems to have perked her up. "Did Eric really kick Peter out? Four said you punched him, too."

"Um, yes," I answer sleepily. "Eric and Four forced him to leave tonight. They made sure he left Dauntless, and they placed a tracker on him so they can keep tabs on his location." I pause to rub at my eyes. "They don't want him joining up with Evelyn."

Tris relaxes instantly, slumping back against the chair.

"Where is Four? I'd have thought he'd come and find you." I rub at my eyes again, trying to wake myself up. I blearily glance at the stove; I can just make out the green numbers, and I swear they say 2:30 am. "Tris, why are you awake right now?"

"I only saw Four for a minute tonight. He said he was going back to the control room because he wanted to finish up some stuff there. I couldn't sleep so I decided to come find you. But it's only 12:30. I thought you and Eric might still be up." Tris follows my stare to the stove and I can tell the exact second she realizes what time it is. "Oh, Everly, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it was so late."

"It's alright." I finally sit down at the table beside her. "There's a lot going on. Are you happy Peter's gone?"

She nods. "You have no idea how nice it will be not to see his face around here every day. Do you know he attacked one of the initiates in my class? And because no one could prove it, they didn't do anything. They just told us to watch our backs," she tells me, her eyes wide.

"That's awful. No one did anything at all?" I ask her curiously. This was just one more reason I'd been fortunate to train with only Eric; I'd missed out on all kinds of initiation drama. I didn't have to share a room with anyone, I never had to share a shower, and Eric was the only person I ever needed to worry about. I highly doubt he would have tried to attack me while I slept, no matter how poorly I'd done. Listening to Tris makes me even more grateful that I spent my entire time here with him.

"No." She shakes her head again. "They couldn't prove it was him, but I know he was behind it. He went after the boy who was ahead of him in the rankings." She glances down at the table and I'm relieved when she yawns. "But none of that matters now. Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Tris. Kicking him out was the right decision. I was really happy that Eric didn't bat an eye when I said I wanted him gone."

"I can't imagine Eric would ever tolerate Peter trying to mess with you." Tris trails off, and then she smiles somewhere behind me, her whole expression changing to reflect her embarrassment. "Uh... hey, Eric."

I turn, smiling when I catch sight of a half-asleep Eric. He looks adorably grumpy — rumpled hair and tired eyes — and he glares at both of us as he walks towards the table.

"What the hell are the two of you doing? Tris, why are you in my kitchen at three in the morning?" he grumbles, his voice thick with sleep. He comes to a stop beside me, and his fingers find my arm and tighten around it. "Come back to sleep, Everly."

He sounds downright cranky, but when I gaze up at him he seems more imploring than anything. He looks exhausted, and he's frowning as he squints down at me.

"I really should let you guys go back to bed. I just stopped by to talk to Everly. I didn't realize it was so late," Tris answers apologetically, but I don't mind her visit. She looks at me and bites her lip. "Maybe I'll see you for lunch or dinner?"

"You're certainly not staying for breakfast," Eric snarks, and I smack his side.

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow, Tris." I wave goodbye to her, rising up to stand beside Eric. He pries one eye open a bit more, and he scowls.

"Goodnight," he says forcefully, pulling me to follow him back to the bedroom. "Why was she here again?" he asks once the front door shuts with a loud bang. He throws one dark look in the direction Tris left, and he all but pulls me back into bed and on top of him.

"She came to see what happened with Peter. She couldn't sleep. I don't think she thought it was so late," I tell him, gracelessly climbing onto my own side of the bed. Eric's only response is to huff loudly, throwing one arm over his eyes.

"Maybe we should move," he mutters.

I elbow him, and I lie down beside him, turning to face him. "Maybe," I answer him, but my mind is a million miles away. Even in his exhaustion he notices; Eric turns on his side immediately, yanking me back against him. I relax once I come in contact with the hard muscle of his chest, his skin still warm from the sheets.

"Go back to sleep," he commands, shutting his eyes.

The words are uttered mostly into my hair, and I close my eyes as if I could fall asleep on just his word.

Surprisingly, I do.

 

I dream of Evelyn.

It sucks in the terrible way where one realizes they are dreaming, but cannot figure out why or how to stop it. I dream of her face, taunting me as I stand before her, dressed in the same pink dress I wore the very day I left Amity.

Peter stands on one side of her and Jeremy on the other. They leer at me, jeering as I stand on the edge of Dauntless's roof, my feet trying to stay steady on the ledge.

"You should have stayed home," Evelyn says the words kindly, letting them float over me, as she gently presses me closer and closer to the edge. I sway, suddenly nervous, and I try to peer over the edge. I can still see the same dark, gaping hole that served as my entrance to Dauntless, but now there's something dangerous about it. I turn back to her, grasping my dress tightly.

"He's not down there," she offers up, like she can feel the fear rising up in my throat. I know she's talking about Eric, but I can't move and I can't force myself to look away from her. "You knew he couldn't win against me. No one can."

"You're wrong," I protest, watching the way her face seems to blur slightly. I want to wake up — desperately — but I can't. "I'll jump before you can kill me," I threaten her, my heart sinking when she smiles crookedly.

"He won't save you this time." Evelyn starts to darken, her skin seeming to flake away as the seconds pass. "You don't know that your time is up."

Eric's face flashes before my eyes, stoic and unmoving. I shake my head at her. "That doesn't make any sense," I try to argue, but it doesn't seem to affect her at all.

"Time's up, Everly." Peter and Jeremy both speak at the same time, and their parroted words are ghostly, sending a current of terror through me. Evelyn steps forward, and she aims her gun directly at me. The action seems to cut through the air, just enough that I can feel myself lose my balance.

"Goodnight," she tells me, fake sympathy flashing across her face as I fall weightlessly into the darkness.

 

I wake up with a start.

My heart is racing erratically, painfully thumping in my chest.

I shove Eric's arm off of me and try to push away the suffocating feeling that's creeping over me. He's heavy with sleep, and I don't even bother to try and avoid waking him. I push the covers back and force myself to sit up.

I push my palms into my eyes until I see stars.

She won't win.

I won't let her, not as long as I'm alive.

 

The conference room feels oppressive.

The air is dry and heavy, and for once I feel overly warm while I sit, crammed so closely beside Karl that my knee occasionally hits his. I try to ignore the growing feeling of claustrophobia, and it's only worsened by the appearance of several more guards that join us. It seems that Eric has pulled in every person in Dauntless that he deems worthy of joining this manhunt for Evelyn, and forced us all into the smallest room possible.

"Anyone else coming?" Karl asks me as we watch everyone jostle for an available seat. He sounds pretty good-natured despite our cramped quarters. "I think Eric forgot to invite the housekeeping staff."

His words catch me off guard, and I laugh at his comment, louder than I want to. The leaders turn to glance at me as I try to cover it up by coughing, but it doesn't really work. Karl nudges me with his elbow, and I slink down a bit in my chair when Eric's dark eyes find me. He was busy with Max and Harrison when I walked in. All three of them were bent over something Four was showing them, but now he stares right at me, and he motions for me to come over to him.

"I'll be back," I tell Karl, trying to slip through the crowded room. They've crammed as many chairs as they possibly could around the conference room table, leaving little space to walk around. I head towards the front of the room and look down at the map Eric is now holding. It's covered in all sorts of marks, and there's a very large section highlighted not too far from where the edge of Dauntless sits.

"Is that where Evelyn is?" I ask, not bothering to wait for them to tell me what they're doing. We've been here for almost a half hour now, waiting for everyone to arrive. It's not that I have anything else to do, but I'm starting to feel a little stir crazy. I stand beside Eric, and when his arm brushes mine I can't help but feel even more overheated.

Four tears his eyes away from the map and nods somewhat grimly.

"That's where we think she is. We're planning on isolating her and forcing her out." He sounds determined — and rather distant — considering the fact that we're talking about his mother. "We've narrowed it down to a few locations we want to scout out, but this is our best bet."

"When?" I look directly at Eric, noting the way he avoids my gaze completely.

"We're starting tonight. But we aren't rushing this. Eric thinks we need to be smart about it. Careful," Max answers, and he seems thoughtful. "We thought about ambushing her, but she might be expecting that."

"Of course she'll be expecting us," Eric huffs, his tone verging on boredom. "She knows we've got an army, and she knows Jeremy would have been questioned since he didn't return to her. She's not going to sit around forever, but she will be fully prepared for us to come after her. I don't want a repeat of the last time we infiltrated where she was camping out."

He looks at me now, and his jaw tightens as he thrusts his chin out towards me. "Everly, you'll stay—"

"No," I interrupt, ignoring the headache that's slowly starting to form. The room feels burning hot, and I have half a mind to step outside for a minute. I can't pinpoint if it's the lack of sleep, the lingering images of Evelyn, Peter, and Jeremy from my nightmare, or the stress from yesterday, but I'm feeling somewhat drained. But not enough that I'll let Eric demand I stay home.

"I'm going with you. She's taken enough from me, and I want to be there when we take her down," I tell him firmly.

The room goes quiet as all heads snap in Eric's direction. I know they're waiting for him to tell me no, to snarl his refusal and tell me forcefully that I'll wait here, once again, until he comes home. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Karl, watching very intently while Eric stays quiet.

"I'm not staying here," I repeat, standing up a bit straighter.

I'm just as surprised as they are when he looks right at me, holding my stare for a heartbeat too long before he nods, shrugging his shoulders.

"Alright."

 

 

The rest of the meeting is intense. Everyone in the room is suddenly a battle strategist, and they all have definite opinions on how to find Evelyn and what to do with her. I stay quiet until Karl elbows me and points to the map. I notice it's pointing to a location that his squad was assigned to patrol, and I feel suddenly cold realizing we probably walked right past Evelyn or her army at some point.

Before I can excuse myself to go find Eric, he takes the seat beside Karl and smiles tightly at me. Karl uses Eric's presence to his advantage; he shoves the map at Eric and points to the square we had been focused on.

"There's a squad there now, but so far no word's come from them."

Eric nods sharply. "I'm not surprised. I think she's laying low for a bit." He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of him.

I've just finished the last bite of my surprisingly good breakfast, courtesy of Karl. He had looked concerned when I told him I felt hot, and had shoved his blueberry muffin at me. I'd gratefully taken it, and silently thanked Quinten for managing to make a breakfast that was edible. I had even started to feel better after drinking some water and taking off my jacket. But that good feeling slips away when they begin discussing Evelyn.

"How many squads are you sending out tonight?" Karl asks Eric, and he mimics Eric's posture. Four throws an amused glance at me, and I try hard to keep a straight face.

"How many can you spare? I'd like to send at least five units out to start patrolling, maybe six if you have it." Eric considers, tilting his head to the side. "I haven't pulled the schedules for tonight yet. I have no idea what you have planned."

Karl looks up at him in confusion and shrugs. "I uh... don't know. No one has filled Peter's spot, and I don't think anyone has changed our schedules yet. We're waiting for someone to be appointed to oversee all the patrol squads."

I watch as Eric seems to chew on the inside of his cheek. He takes a long drink of his coffee, staring at Karl intently. "You're familiar with the operating system Peter was using? Including the latest update?"

Karl nods. "Yeah, he showed me last week."

Eric flicks his stare to me for a split second, and he smiles smugly at Karl. "Congratulations, then. You can send me a list of the men you'll take tonight, and figure out a plan for the next few days."

I smile in surprise.

"You... you want me to take Peter's place? As head of the patrol squads?" Karl fumbles, and then smiles brightly. "Seriously?"

Eric nods sharply. "Head over there now. I'll send out the orders so they know to report to you. It'll be an hour or so before I can get a tablet to you, and we'll meet back here after lunch. You can assemble your own team of direct reports to assist you, then select members for your own patrol squad."

Karl's face lights up. He no longer looks like the boyish friend who once helped me walk to Eric's office in high hopes of catching a glimpse of Eric. He looks... well… he looks a lot like Eric, except he's grinning as though this is the best day ever.

"Thank you, sir. This is awesome."

"Yes," Eric answers dryly. "Now, so long as you don't try to overthrow my wife or take orders from her, I think you'll do just fine. Speaking of which, I want you to break up and reassign squad eight's members. But keep that kid Zach with you. He needs some intensive retraining on chain of command, and I want you to personally see to it." Eric crosses one of his legs and smiles at me, arching an eyebrow tauntingly. I bat my eyelashes at him, enjoying the lighter moment.

"To be fair, Karl only took orders from me because I was coming to your rescue," I remind him, and I swear his lips twitch as he tries not to laugh.

"Maybe you can come to my rescue again tonight." Eric grins leeringly at me, and I will myself not to turn pink.

"So, moving on..." Four interrupts, looking slightly flustered and not at all willing to listen to more of this conversation. He shoves some papers at Eric, and when he starts talking again I find myself zoning out.

It won't be long before Evelyn is here, captured by the Dauntless army.

And I'll be there when it happens.

 

 

In the least surprising turn of events ever, Max corners me after the meeting.

I wait for him to ask me about the leadership position, but instead he hands me a sealed packet of paperwork and tells me I'm to head to Erudite in a few minutes.

"You'll meet with Cara and consult with her regarding Peter's tracking device. It's a conversation I don't think should be handled remotely. I want his expulsion and our surveillance of him kept as quiet as possible. No need to make everyone paranoid that they will be getting trackers, too," he says with a derisive laugh. "You'll hand deliver the paperwork to Cara and explain to her why this became necessary. We need for her to activate his tracker, so I'm counting on you to be persuasive," he says pointedly. "We will be taking some major security precautions for your trip to Erudite. You're leaving before lunch, so if it runs long, eat there."

I look down at the paperwork in my hand, wondering what Cara's reaction will be. "She knows I'm coming?"

Max nods. "I just messaged her to tell her to expect a visit today. She doesn't know what you're bringing, but I did tell her it was a security matter and we would appreciate her discretion."

"Okay," I respond easily. I'm not sure what else Eric had planned for today, but I had hoped it would involve heading out to scout the area he'd shown me. "So you want me to go now?" I resist the urge to ask him if Eric knows that he's sending me to Erudite, but Max keeps talking away.

"Yes, you leave in a few minutes with an armored truck and a security detail there and back. Eric is aware of what you're doing, don't worry. In fact, he was the one who suggested you'd be the best person to get Cara on our side." Max must be telepathic or I must have my thoughts written all over my face, because he grins. "He's alright with it so long as you have reinforcement."

Of course.

"Is he the reinforcement?" I ask.

Max laughs loudly. "No, you'll take a few of Karl's men with you. And you'll be armed."

I nod my head, suddenly feeling better than I have all morning. This might be just what I need to clear my head. I can prove to myself that I am capable of doing this job, and I can get out of Dauntless for a few hours. And when I return home, hopefully I'll be that much closer to knowing where Evelyn is.

I look up at Max. "I'd be happy to," I tell him, and I put the paperwork in my jacket pocket without a second thought.

 

 

I leave without much fanfare on my part.

Eric, on the other hand, takes great pains to make sure that not only am I armed, but that the men accompanying me are more than heavily armed.

"I'll be fine," I remind him, trying to ignore the way his fingers are digging into my neck. He'd come over to hand me my phone, but then he grabbed me, crushing me against his chest and burrowing his hands in my hair. I found his aggressive hug endearing, even if Karl's friends had to work hard to hide their amusement. "I'll be back in a few hours."

I wiggle back, freeing myself enough to crane my neck to look up at him.

His face is serious: his eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is clenched down tightly. I half expect him to scowl at me and announce that he's changed his mind and decided I should stay here. Instead, he exhales as though he's been holding his breath and sighs dramatically.

"I know."

"Eric." I reach up for the collar of his jacket, yanking him towards me until his head is near mine. I have no qualms about being this close to him in front of anyone, though he isn't as fond of being openly affectionate as I am. I rise up on my toes, happy when he pulls me impossibly closer. "I can do this. This is easy. You've trained me how to visit other factions, you know. I'm pretty good at it."

I keep my voice teasing and light, pleased when he relaxes a fraction of an inch.

"I know. It's why I told Max you should be the one to do it," he mutters, nudging his nose against mine.

"And I'll be back really soon. And then you can tell me all about the plans," I whisper. Behind me I can hear the noise from the patrol room, the chatter from those working at the computers, and the faint clicking of the keyboards.

"Fine," he reluctantly agrees, and I smile, kissing him before he can change his mind.

I break apart from him, and he lets me go as though the act of our separation is physically painful. He swallows and watches me join the two men escorting me, Kevin and Justin.

"Ready?" I ask them, and they nod at me. They glance at Eric briefly, then they immediately lead me towards the oversized truck assigned to take us to Erudite.

I pride myself on looking back at Eric only once.

He's watching, his stare locked on me, and only when I finally climb into the truck do his lips curl up into a smile.

 

 

"It seems to me that Peter more than deserved to be thrown out of Dauntless, and I agree that he should remain under surveillance for everyone's safety. I'll be happy to activate his tracker for you." Cara's voice echoes in her office.

She looks young to be sitting behind such an impressive desk. Her entire office is white and silver and it's so bright that it hurts my eyes. There are lots of high windows, lots of slick, arched steel beams, and a single plant in the corner of her office. I had noticed it immediately. Now my gaze is stuck on it, the blossoms all too familiar.

"It's from Amity," Cara tells me, her eyes glued to me. "Johanna sent it after I accepted the position. It just started to bloom."

"It's very pretty," I tell her, embarrassed to be caught staring at something so trivial.

"You were from there, correct?"

Cara has a sweet voice; it's very clear and even, soothing to listen to. She smiles at me, not an ounce of threat in her words.

"Yes," I answer her, smiling. "I thought it looked familiar."

Cara smiles again and I decide she's pretty. "Do you ever miss Amity?"

Her words surprise me, and I shake my head, ignoring the sudden rush of homesickness for my mother. I haven't seen her since we were stuck there during the snowstorm, and I feel a pang of guilt for not even trying to contact her. "No. I'm happy in Dauntless. But my family is in Amity, and I sometimes wonder how they're doing."

"I can imagine that's an unpleasant feeling." Cara is sympathetic, and it's easy to tell it's genuine. "My family is all here, but it would be strange not to see them after spending years with them." She pauses, her eyes softening. "But you have Eric, right?"

She is inquisitive in a way that doesn't seem obnoxious or rudely nosy. She's not that much older than I am, and I suddenly wonder what it feels like to have the weight of an entire faction resting on your shoulders.

Probably as unpleasant as I found it to be yesterday.

"Yes, I do," I answer with a soft smile, and she nods, touching the bottom of her computer screen a few times and typing in short bursts.

"I've activated the tracking device for you, and signed off on the paperwork to authorize it." She sounds a little spiteful, and I share the same feeling. I'm happy that Peter has finally been made to pay for his actions and won't be in a position to hurt anyone else.

"Thank you. I know Max will be pleased." I'm thrilled that Max had enough confidence in me to send me here, but at the same time I can't help but wonder if it was to distract me from whatever he and Eric were plotting. I had thought about that in the car, much to my chagrin. But there's no reason to think he would have done that; Eric already told me I would be there when they went after Evelyn, and he wouldn't go back on his word.

"Thank you for coming by, Everly," Cara offers up, and before she can say anything else, we are interrupted by Cara's assistant. She is tall, with long red hair and a very fitted blue dress. She smiles blandly, and she quietly apologizes for disturbing us.

"Your one o'clock is here. They're very early," the assistant quietly announces, and she briefly looks me up and down. "I can escort Mrs. Coulter out if you'd like."

Cara looks at her in surprise, her mouth turning downwards, but I wave her off.

"Thank you. I should go anyway," I inform her, standing up.

"I don't think your vehicle is back yet," Cara reminds me, and I glance out the large windows of her office. The building next door catches my eye, with its large glass panes and its bright reflection. I spot the lettering on one side and I know exactly what I'm going to do next.

"If the driver happens to stop in here, can someone tell him I'm going to run next door? I'll try to contact him myself and let him know to call me directly when he's ready for us to depart."

"Are you sure? You know where you're going?" Cara is still frowning, worry crossing her face.

"I have two men with me. I'll be fine. I'm going to stop by and see a friend of mine. But thank you for your concern."

Cara stands, extending her hand towards me. "I'll email you. It was a pleasure to see you today, Everly." I shake her hand, say goodbye, and slip out of her office quietly without looking back.

 

 

The building next door matches Cara's office.

The walls are so white they are almost blinding, and the ceilings are high and made of glass. I crane my neck up to look at them, squinting at the bright light bouncing off of the silver beams. All around me people are hurrying by, dressed in either royal blue scrubs or various sharply-tailored pants and jackets. No one greets me or my security detail, they simply stare curiously at us for a moment before continuing on their way. The atmosphere is the exact opposite of Dauntless, and I find myself feeling very out of place here. Everything is too white, too pristine, too carefully arranged.

I'm able to easily find the sign with the hospital directory on it, running my eyes down the list of names until I find the one I want.

Dr. Daniel Coulter — Floor Six

 

 

His office is easy enough to find. There's no security clearance needed to access the floor, and it's clearly labeled. I spot the large reception desk that flanks the elevators, eyeing his gold nameplate.

Turning to my two companions, I explain that I am meeting someone in this office. "You're welcome to wait here if you like, but if you want, you can just head to the cafeteria for some lunch. I can call you as soon as I'm done, or you can call me if our truck shows up before then." Kevin eyes me warily, obviously trying to decide if he's going to get in trouble for leaving my side. I assure him that I will be safe, that I'm still armed, and that I won't leave to go anywhere else without them. Eventually he agrees to go eat in the cafeteria, lured by the promise of a potentially edible lunch. I wave the both of them off before his partner can protest, and approach the reception desk.

After a few minutes of standing there while his receptionist types away and ignores me, I'm relieved when she finally raises her gaze to mine. She has the same look as Cara's assistant: she's tall, impeccably dressed, and quickly assessing me through her glasses. She barely blinks until I tell her I want to see him today.

"And who are you?" She peers over at me again, her fingers hovering above her keyboard. I wonder what she's typing.

"Everly," I tell her, watching as she doesn't move. "I don't have an appointment, but he knows who I am," I tell her firmly, seeing the doubt reflected in her eyes.

She makes an unimpressed sound, and I realize I have no real form of identification on me except for my keycards.

"Last name?" she asks me as she types something on her keyboard. I glance at his door once, half hoping he will just step out of his office.

"Coulter. Everly Coulter. Daniel is my father-in-law."

She looks up in surprise, but there's an immediate change in her attitude — there's no small amount of power behind that name. "Oh, of course." She nods, smiling politely, and tells me to go ahead and knock.

"Thank you." I walk past her before she can ask too many questions and knock firmly on his door. I wait until he answers, far less annoyed-sounding than Eric, and open the door. Daniel's head is bent down, his stare concentrated on the slew of papers in front of him. He raises his glance towards me, his face lighting up.

"Everly, what a pleasant surprise," Daniel greets me warmly, rising up from behind his desk. "Everything alright? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Everything's fine, Daniel. I came to Erudite on official Dauntless business, and now that I'm done, I thought I would stop in and say hello," I tell him, glancing around his office. It reminds of Eric's. There is almost nothing personal, not even a picture of his wife, and everything is precisely organized. There are bookshelves lined with impressive medical manuals, tons of books and papers arranged in size order, and a wall of certificates to celebrate his accomplishments. I skim over them, noting the way he's relentlessly pursued the prestigious awards, one after the other.

"I had to meet with Cara about a security matter, but it was handled much faster than I expected." I smile at him briefly, then reach up to touch one of the certificate frames; this one looks more impressive than the others, the writing on it is far more detailed and ornate.

"She's a curious one," Daniel throws out, walking over to stand beside me. He looks like he finds something to be humorous. "She sat in on a lecture I gave last week. Afterwards, she asked a million questions. I almost couldn't get away from her."

"Why did she sit in on it?" I can't even begin to imagine why Cara would sit in on something he was teaching.

"She said she found the subject matter fascinating. Hospital regulations are pretty exciting, I guess," Daniel responds dryly. He quirks an eyebrow at me and I chuckle in reply, wondering just what Cara could have found so exciting.

He catches me staring at the plaque announcing what must be his largest achievement: his position as the head of the medical board, which gives him authority over each faction's medical facilities and personnel.

"I was just appointed to that one," he offers up proudly. "I'll be heading to Amity soon. Just checking up on the state of their medical affairs. I was thinking I'd probably run into your mother."

I look up at him, trying to hide the flash of terror that runs through me.

"I'm sure she'd love to see you. Just don't get trapped alone with her," I warn him. I don't doubt that my mother would love to prove to him just how her holistic healing works; even worse, she might try to convince him to sample one of her concoctions. "I wouldn't drink anything she gives you, either."

Daniel laughs, far easier than Eric, and he smiles with the same amused look that my husband occasionally has. "I'll keep that in mind."

His computer beeps suddenly, the same way Eric's phone always seems to interrupt our time together. He frowns, then heads back to his desk, tapping on the screen and frowning even more. I use the opportunity to walk over to his bookshelf, browsing through it and quickly scanning the titles, just as I once snooped through Eric's. I tilt my head at the curious findings on the middle shelf. There are several psychology books, a few anatomy books that look fairly new, and one single book that looks out of place. I let my fingers trail over the words neatly embossed in gold on the side.

"What is this?" I ask him, more curious than ever. He's got it wedged in between all sorts of medical texts, hidden unless you were really looking for it. This book looks similar to the ones I found on Eric's bookshelves. It has the same lettering, but this one is slightly smaller than the ones I've read.

Daniel glances up, and he looks confused until he walks over, and then he smiles widely when he realizes what I'm holding.

"That one is about the creatures from the story. Eric told me you liked those books. I found it a while ago. Back when you first started training with him."

I pull it from the shelf, opening it up to the middle. I've never been more jealous in my life and I haven't even finished the series. "Where did you find it?"

Daniel shrugs. "One of the markets. It's not my usual genre of reading, but I did enjoy the story."

I can't help but wonder if that's where Eric got them from.

"You can take it. It doesn't really fit in with the manuals on how to treat brain hemorrhages." Daniel kindly offers the book to me with a wink, and I smile widely.

"I can bring it back when I'm done," I tell him, hoping that he'll accept my deal. I don't really need a reason to come back — I'm sure at this point Eric would let me see Daniel whenever I want — but if I have his book, I almost have to come back here to return it.

"It's a deal," Daniel beams, and I close the book. "Are you hungry? I'm just about to take a quick lunch if you want to join me." He squints at the door, then back to me. "Are you here alone?" He says the words curiously, and I would bet he's thinking there's no way Eric would have sent me here by myself.

"I have two men from our patrol squads with me. But they're in the cafeteria now eating lunch. So, I'd love to have lunch with you." I hold the book against my chest, silently hoping Kevin won't call anytime soon.

Daniel looks pleased.

"Shall we?" He motions towards the door, taking a step to the side.

I smile up at him, still clutching his book.

He follows after me, closing the door behind him, and bids farewell to the receptionist who is staring at us with rapt fascination.

 

 

The hospital cafeteria is nearly as busy as the one in Dauntless.

We find an open table off to the side of the room, and I slide into the opposite side of the booth and set the book down beside me. I look around quickly, taking in the sterile, serious atmosphere. It feels odd to be eating lunch in Erudite; I've eaten a few dinners seated across from Daniel in Clyde's, but this time I'm the odd man out here. My dark uniform seems rather aggressive set against the sea of royal blue, and it catches the eyes of a few of the people dining around us. They smile tentatively, but quickly go back to their own business.

I'm surprised when a woman stops by our table to drop off drinks for us. She sets down a glass of sparkling water for me, and coffee for Daniel.

"Brought you the usual, and something for your guest." She says the words lightly. "What can I get you for lunch?"

The difference between the cafeteria here and the dining hall in Dauntless is striking. Back in Dauntless it's more of a free for all; people grab whatever they can, whenever they can, as fast as they can. Here there is clearly a wait staff, and a much more sophisticated atmosphere.

"Thank you." Daniel graciously accepts the coffee from the woman. "Would you give us a minute, Shelly? Everly needs to look at a menu before we order."

"Of course, I'll be right back." She looks at me intently, and I almost feel like she's staring a bit too much. Then she smiles politely as she walks away, and I forget about her as I happily reach for the menu at the end of the table. I read through the list quickly, surprised at the variety of lunch options available. The food is far healthier and greener than anything Dauntless has to offer.

"What do you normally get?" I ask him, and I'm unsurprised when he tells me he usually chooses a salad. He seems to share Eric's blasé attitude towards cafeteria food. "I'll have the same thing."

"You'll like it," Daniel promises me.

A few minutes later, our waitress is back. She takes our order without any excessive staring, then vanishes quickly to stop by a table a few feet away from us. I try to scan the room for Kevin, and I'm relieved when I don't see him or Justin sitting anywhere near us.

"Much different than Dauntless, isn't it?" Daniel observes, noticing my stare around the room. I look back at him, not wanting him to think I'm being rude.

"Completely different. I was looking for the guys I came with. I thought they might be in here."

I'm happy they aren't visible. I've been wanting to talk to Daniel, and if Kevin is in the cafeteria, he might feel obligated to come sit by us if he sees me. I don't really want him overhearing any of my conversation.

"Are you staying long, Everly?" Daniel questions while mixing sugar into his coffee.

"No, I'll have to head back when I'm done here. I'm sure they're expecting me back soon." I wish I had unlimited time to sit here and talk with him, but I don't. He looks at me curiously, probably wondering what sort of pressing affairs I could have back home.

"We've had some complications in Dauntless lately." That's an understatement if ever there was one.

Daniel looks intrigued. He sets his coffee to the side and turns his full, undivided attention to me. "What kind of complications?"

We're interrupted by the sudden arrival of our lunch. Shelly sets a large plate in front of me, and I'm surprised when I look down at it. This salad is almost pretty-looking, and it looks far more appealing than anything I've ever seen served in Dauntless. I pick up my fork and stab at the lettuce with a vengeance.

"Dauntless used to have another leader-in-training named Jeremy. He and I trained together for a while, at least until Eric got fed up with him and reassigned him to a patrol squad. I always thought he was kind of odd and annoying." I shake my head ruefully; odd doesn't even begin to describe Jeremy. "The other day he tried to get into Dauntless and it caused a lot of chaos. Today is sort of the fallout from all that."

Daniel nods in recognition at the name. "He's the one that just left without a word, isn't he?"

I'm not surprised that he knows who Jeremy is. I sometimes wonder how much Eric talks to his father. He hasn't mentioned him in some time, but Daniel seems fairly knowledgeable about what goes on in other factions.

"Yep. I caught him coming back into Dauntless. He was there to steal from us, but he tried to claim he was there to warn us about Evelyn's impending attack." My salad sticks in my throat as I try to swallow it down, and I reach for my drink. "They questioned him, and then took him to Candor for his trial."

Daniel nods. "How did that go?"

"He never came back," I tell him. I don't hold any sort of sympathy for Jeremy, not really. The loss of his life isn't a terrible thing when you consider he was supplying weapons to another army intent on killing us all.

"I see." He doesn't look surprised. "And the fallout is from his execution?"

"No, the fallout is from Eric leaving me as one of the leaders in charge of Dauntless while he was gone."

He does look surprised at that, but it's mixed with something that looks like pride. "I'm guessing it didn't go as smoothly as everyone had hoped?"

"It couldn't have gone worse. Do you remember how I told you I was concerned about being ready to take on a leadership position?" Daniel nods slowly; I set my fork down and frown. "Yesterday, everything that could have gone wrong did. It was a lot to handle, and I didn't enjoy all that work and responsibility. I thought being in charge would be more exciting, or... I don't know…" I trail off.

"Rewarding?" Daniel offers up. "Such positions usually aren't."

"Yes!" I agree. "It wasn't rewarding at all. There was a mountain of paperwork, and after breaking up a fight, dealing with a missing loony person, and being called 'little girl', I was so tired that I fell asleep before my day was over. I nearly died when I woke up to find Eric sitting on the bed beside me."

Daniel laughs loudly. "Was he mad?"

I shake my head. "No, not really. It wasn't all my fault. He was more angry that all this stupid stuff had happened while he was gone. To make it even more exciting, the head of the patrol squads, Peter, tried to overthrow me by staging a walkout. Then he knocked the power out in Dauntless and tried to blame it all on me."

Daniel's eyes widen. "All that happened? In one day?"

"Yeah. All before dinner," I tell him, pausing with my fork in midair. "Can I be really honest with you?"

He nods seriously, and I don't know why I'm even asking. Daniel has always been someone I could trust. He's always given me his very honest, very understanding opinion. He was encouraging when I first told him I didn't know if I could handle everything Eric threw at me, and I wonder now if I unconsciously came here to find him for that very reason.

"There's an open leadership position, and Max is going to give me the opportunity to become a full-fledged leader. I don't want Eric to be disappointed, but I've come to the conclusion that I don't know enough about the faction just yet, I don't know enough about the members, and I don't think any of them really know me except as Eric's wife."

He smiles in understanding. "I told you once before, Everly, I don't think you could disappoint Eric. I also don't think he would want you to take on a position if you don't feel ready for it or if you won't enjoy it. It seems like he's always tried to give you the very best life in Dauntless that he can — he obviously wants you to be happy. Have you talked to him about this?"

I hesitate for a brief moment before I answer him, then sigh. "No. I really don't know how to tell him any of that. I feel like he'll be mad at me or dismiss my concerns and insist I'm ready, but I'm certain that I need to learn a lot more before I attempt to lead a faction. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed almost all of Eric's training. And I like visiting the factions, too. But there's a lot that I still haven't done. Eric pretty much picked only what he wanted to show me, even though Max told him he had to show me everything."

Daniel smirks, and I'm reminded just how similar he and Eric are. "I'm not really surprised he only showed you what he wanted to. Eric has never really been one for listening to others. I have a feeling he had his own rather selfish reasons for signing you up for his leadership program," Daniel states with a grin. "I don't doubt that you'll make a great leader in Dauntless someday, my dear. Eric may not like that you want to wait, but I'm sure he'll manage to deal with it."

I'm starting to get the feeling Eric has talked to his father a lot more than I realized, and judging from the sounds of it, Eric won't lose it if I tell him I'm not ready to take the leadership position. However, I'm still concerned he might not appreciate my seeming lack of thankfulness.

"I know you're probably right. But Eric has trained me specifically for this — what if he gets upset, thinking that I'm just throwing it all away?" I set the fork down next to my plate and let my stare fall. I don't feel quite as hungry as I did before. There would be nothing worse than for me to tell Eric that I want to do something else, only to have him think I'm ungrateful for everything he's done for me.

"Everly." Daniel says my name very gently, and I look back up from the table. "I don't know Eric as well as I wish I did, not by a long shot. But I've been around the two of you enough to know that Eric would rather have you happy, doing something you like, than stuck doing something you hate. He thought highly enough of you to put you in the program, and he'll respect that you're smart enough to know you aren't ready to do it. Sometimes things work out differently than we planned. There's nothing wrong with that. Besides, you're not saying you'll never do it, just that you don't want to do it right now."

And just like that, with words spoken over fancy salad and sparkling water, everything feels a little bit better. Talking with Eric suddenly doesn't seem quite so impossible.

"I don't even know what else I would do," I say with a laugh.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you mention that you enjoy training the initiate classes?" Daniel smiles and raises an eyebrow at me.

"I did." I sit up straighter and grin, thinking back to how good it felt to finish the last class. "I feel like I really accomplished something with them."

"Maybe you can help out there while you continue your leadership training. It can't hurt to suggest it when you talk to Eric. Let him know how much you like it and see what he thinks."

"I know they will need someone to take over the open leadership position right away, so I guess I'll talk to him when I get back," I promise him cheerfully. "Thank you, Daniel."

"Happy to help." He grins, but his face turns serious when his phone rings. I wait for him to answer it; instead, he moves it away from him slightly and it finally stops ringing. "Anything else new in Dauntless?"

I've taken a bite of my salad, and I chew it while I try to think of what else to share with him. There's a lot that's happened since I saw him last: Karl's been promoted, Jeremy's sort of revealed where Evelyn could be hiding, I've been on a few patrol routes without Eric, Eric killed Landon, and I shot Jeremy.

Maybe I won't tell him about those last two things.

Before I can answer him, his phone rings again. He eyes it, letting it continue to ring until it stops. "Sorry about that," he mutters, and I watch his finger hover over a button on the screen.

"It's okay. Do you need to get it?" I idly wonder if it's someone important or someone that needs his help. But he shakes his head no, and lets go of the phone.

"No, it's not important," he answers.

"What about you? Anything new around here?" I watch him try hard to ignore the phone, but I can tell there's a lingering unease to him. He presses his lips together, before he looks back up at me.

"Not especially. I'll be training some staff next week, but that's—"

His phone rings again, and I am able to catch sight of the name flashing across the screen.

Blythe.

This time, Daniel hits decline.

"Everything okay?" I ask him, trying not to sound like I'm prying. Her name sends an ill feeling through me, and the last thing I want is her appearing out of nowhere, potentially murdering me for sitting here with Daniel.

He smiles tightly as an alert pops up on the screen, then another. Both have her name on them. I watch him slide across one, opening it up to reveal a wall of text. He immediately closes it without responding. "It's fine. I can call her back when we're done."

He shoves the phone into his pocket and forces a smile.

"Okay." I nod at him, not wanting to create any problems for him. I enjoy spending time with him, but not at the cost of his wife flying into a fit of rage. But he doesn't mention her again; in fact, the rest of our lunch flies by, and it's all too soon before my own phone rings and Kevin informs me that our vehicle has arrived and we need to leave.

"I need to head back now," I tell Daniel. "Thank you for having lunch with me."

"Of course," he responds seriously. "I'll walk you out."

I slide out of the booth reluctantly, although I'm pleased that Daniel is accompanying me. Together we leave the cafeteria, and I'm not at all sorry to leave the sterile environment. A few of the workers nod at him as we walk by, and I can tell he's highly respected here.

"That's quite the ride you have." He stops at the side of the large truck, eying it cautiously as Kevin opens the door for me.

"This way, Everly," Kevin yells out, glancing impatiently at his watch.

"Thank you for stopping by today. I'm glad I got to see you again," Daniel remarks as I stand there, clutching his book to my chest. I suddenly don't want to leave, not at all.

"You'll come for dinner soon?" I suggest quietly, trying to ignore the nervousness that I've been feeling ever since I saw Blythe's name on his phone. I had hoped that she wouldn't intrude into my life anymore, but she is Daniel's wife. She has every right to call him; I imagine she wouldn't be too pleased to discover he was eating lunch with me while he ignored her calls.

Daniel doesn't answer me. Instead, he steps forward and hugs me tightly. He doesn't let go right away, and it takes him a second before he steps back and looks directly at me. I feel like someone's punched me in the stomach when he waves and smiles tightly.

"Goodbye, Everly."

"Goodbye?" I freeze in place, my stare stuck on him. I don't move; in fact, I refuse to move until he answers me. "Daniel, what about—"

"Everly, get in the truck. Right now." Kevin's voice changes, his tone higher and laced with panic. I wave him off, not really caring if we're two minutes late getting back to Dauntless. "Everly, get in the truck now. We need to go."

I ignore Kevin's commands, but I can't ignore that Daniel's face has changed, his expression becoming puzzled.

"Everly, do you have backup coming?" He takes a step back, his eyes squinting in the sunlight. I watch him cock his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing.

"For fuck's sake, you need to get in the truck NOW!" Kevin screams at me, and I turn in annoyance. He's gesturing wildly, and I catch sight of Justin rounding the front of the truck, weapon drawn. He's aiming directly at the people marching towards us, and my heart sinks to my stomach when I catch sight of them.

Shit.

Factionless.

These are not the factionless I occasionally spotted while living in Amity, lonely and mindless souls wandering the fields aimlessly. These are Evelyn's soldiers, and they are trained to kill. More specifically, they're trained to kill me — along with the rest of Dauntless's troops. I shudder with the horrible thought that they are probably here in retribution for Jeremy's capture and execution.

They are dressed in a multitude of colors, but mostly blacks and other dark, stiff fabrics, and I understand why Daniel thought they were with us. Except that they are storming towards the truck, their weapons — our very own weapons — aimed right at us.

There must be a dozen of them.

I fumble wildly, my hands flying over my uniform to find my gun.

"Where did they come from?" I ask Kevin, trying to tamp down my rising panic.

"I don't know. But Everly, get the fuck in the vehicle. Get in now. Shut the door," Kevin pleads again, but there is no time.

They fire in rapid succession, their bullets hitting the truck with a loud clank, the empty shells falling to the ground all around us. I can hear Daniel yelling something, his words a blur in my ears as I try to steady myself and focus.

"To the left!" Justin yells to Kevin, and I duck as the sound of a bullet slices through the air, right past my head.

"Fuck," I gasp. This is nothing like the training exercises in Dauntless. Eric may have trained me to shoot a gun, and I may have been able to hold Jeremy in place, but this... this is something else entirely. They are unrelenting as they advance; their expressions wiped clean of everything but the determined desire to kill.

My heart beats wildly, adrenaline rushing through my veins as they continue to come after us. I try to stay behind the open truck door, using it to my advantage as I yank the heavy metal weapon out of its case. I turn off the safety and I step back and around, surveying the area.

Despite the fact that we are outnumbered, our situation doesn't seem hopeless. Kevin and Justin both work quickly; they are well-trained, their skills far superior to those of the factionless. They easily take down a number of them with clean precise shots, and I quickly join them.

There are still plenty of men and women stalking towards the truck, vying for a shot. I aim at the first one I can, a tall man with long, matted hair. He catches sight of me, and I pull the trigger of the gun without hesitation.

I watch him crumple to the ground.

The relief is surprisingly sweet and surprisingly short-lived.

There are more after him, and I take note with a sudden wave of terror that they seem to be focusing in on me.

They don't say anything; none of them utters my name or points me out, but they seem to be heading right for me. Kevin and Justin are so occupied with this group's comrades that they represent only a minor deterrent, and these people aim to take advantage of it. Kevin and Justin both take up positions towards the front of the truck, trying to stay out of the line of fire.

"Six more," Justin yells. I aim my gun again, swallowing as I steady myself to pull the trigger. My arms and hands burn just as much as my lungs do, and I watch three of them fall sloppily to the ground. One of the women groans, clutching her leg and letting lose a string of expletives. It's not enough to stop her; she raises the gun again, aiming at him.

"Fuck," Justin swears, and he shoots again — this time, she doesn't make another sound.

"Almost done," Kevin tells me, and I nod, trying to ignore the jittery feeling running through me. "We'll contact Karl as soon as this is under control. We'll head back—"

I don't hear the rest of what he says.

My whole world tilts to the side and my mouth falls open as there is a burst of something burning hot through my side. My hand flies to my side, and I let out a gasp of air as I stumble back, losing my footing completely.

"What?!" My fingers come away red and sticky, my own blood coating them. The sight makes me nauseous; my stomach lurches as I feel myself collapsing, the burn not subsiding. Instead it grows, until my entire side feels like it might be splintering apart.

Everything sounds muffled now.

There are shouts of my name, someone mockingly announcing, "Goodbye, Everly," followed by white-hot, panicky screams from all around me. It doesn't take much longer before the gunfire stops, and I realize with some sort of hazy awareness that I've been shot. I grit my teeth, counting to ten before I force myself back to my feet, swaying for a second.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck," Kevin shoves his gun back in its holster, and then he's beside me, his face fraught with worry. He reaches for me, jerking me to the side, ignoring my sharp shriek of pain. His motions are jarring, and I try to push him away. "Fuck! Justin, you gotta call Eric. Everly, you okay?"

To his credit, Justin doesn't balk. He nods and reaches for the phone in his pocket. He steps to the side, ducking his head and grimly waiting for the call to go through.

"I'm fine," I croak, my entire side aching with every breath. I'm dimly aware of Daniel at my side now. He works quickly, his hands pressing carefully near my hip to steady me, and I wince in pain. "Just don't touch it. It sort of hurts."

"You got shot," Daniel tells me, and he sounds different. More detached and clinical. When I glance at his face it is pinched with worry and he looks shaken up. "Stay here and don't move. I'm going to get you inside."

Kevin's eyes widen at his words. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know," Daniel answers between gritted teeth. "I need to get some help so I can get her inside. Are there any more of them?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Kevin sounds desperate now, and he shakes his head. "Fuck, I didn't think this would happen. We were just supposed to escort her."

Justin chooses that moment to appear and his face looks utterly white. "He didn't answer. But I did talk to Karl. He said there was a sighting of Evelyn and that Eric and some of the men went after her. Karl will keep trying to reach him."

Poor Karl, I think.

Poor all of us, really. Eric is not gonna be happy about this. Not at all.

"I'll be right back," Daniel mutters, and he's gone before I can even respond. I stand there woozily, staring at Kevin and Justin.

"I'm fine. Really. Don't call Eric." I reach for Kevin, as the ground seems to sway a bit. The sight of him makes me dizzy, and I want very badly to close my eyes. "He'll never let me leave Dauntless again. Daniel can help me. I just need stitches. Eric can't be mad about me getting stitches."

Justin make a funny noise, something between a hysterical laugh and a cough. "Your whole side is bleeding. Fuck, Kevin, help her. He's gonna murder us. He's gonna kill us the second he gets here."

"Calm down," Kevin snaps, but he doesn't sound so sure of himself. "And I don't know how to help her."

But there's no real need for Kevin to help me; Daniel returns with what looks like the entire hospital staff. I can barely make out his words as he barks orders at everyone. He helps me to sit on something, and it's a relief when I can lie down and finally close my eyes for a second.

 

 

"Can I get her vitals again?"

Whoever is talking is hurried; they remind me of Arlene, except their tone isn't quite as nosy. I feel them touch my arm, my jacket having been carefully discarded some time ago. They work quickly, gently probing my sides and discussing the lack of exit wound, all while inserting something sharp into my arm. I don't even wince; the sudden stab is painless compared to my side.

Everyone around me is dressed in royal blue scrubs, murmuring all sorts of things I can't understand and making me wish for the comfort of the Dauntless infirmary. Even its overbearing Head of Staff.

"Seems low, but within range." They are still talking and I force my eyes open. I blink when I realize I'm now being moved down a long hallway; the light seems blinding.

"Anything back from the lab yet?"

There is a shuffling of feet, and we turn a corner. I can hear electronic doors open, and the room grows suddenly frigid as we move into it.

I try to ask what's going on, and if anyone has spoken to Eric. I'm freezing, my arms breaking out in goosebumps while something burns in my arm, and someone brushes the hair out of my eyes.

"You'll feel better in a few minutes. We'll give you something to make you a little sleepy, and when you open your eyes, everything will feel much better." The woman peers down at me, kindly green eyes peering at me over a surgical mask, and she seems to frown. "How old is she?"

Someone wrongly offers up that I am eighteen. I want to correct them, but my head is too heavy and I can't quite force myself to say the words. I do hear Daniel correct the nurse, and she looks up in surprise at him.

"You're assisting today, Dr. Coulter? Shouldn't you be—"

I turn my head slightly, my vision a blurry, drowsy mess as Daniel appears over me. He's changed out of his dark suit jacket and fancy shirt, and he looks strange in his blue scrubs. His are a shade darker, and there is writing on the pocket that I can only assume is his name.

"I'm not assisting. The patient is my daughter-in-law. Dr. Evans will be assisting me."

He speaks firmly, and there is no room for any sort of argument. The nurse nods, and steps away from me as he motions for her to look at something. A second later, more footsteps approach. A man with dark eyes appears, glancing over me with casual interest. I watch him reach for something near my arm, and he smiles slightly as he fidgets with the tube that leads into my arm.

"Anything come back from the blood work that I need to know about? Or are we all clear to proceed?"

"Everything looks fine," Daniel answers offhandedly. He walks back to me, his head bent down as he scans the papers in his hand. He suddenly pauses, his eyes fixed on the middle of the page.

"Daniel?" The other man calls his name at the sudden silence. "Are you okay over there? We're ready to start administering."

"No. Wait." Daniel looks right at me, his eyes widening and his eyebrows rising. "Don't give her anything just yet."

Daniel locks his eyes on mine; then he shoves the papers at the other man and points to the line he was just looking at.

"Shit."


	50. Daniel Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 50th Chapter! 
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> A huge thank you to BK2U for your help and editing of this chapter. And for reading 12 different versions. 
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> Thank you to Erika, for relentlessly insisting this whole story even be started. Without you, there wouldn't be an Eric and Everly. 
> 
> &
> 
> Thank you to Felyneve for being a major support during this process. If you enjoyed Jai in Suicide Squad as Captain Boomerang, check out her Captain Boomerang story on A03 - If You Love Something. It's one of the few I have bookmarked ;)
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> There is an Outtake that will follow this story in a few days. It will be posted under The Training Outtakes on FF.Net, so check back there :)
> 
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> 
> Thanks for al your patience and support, and happy three day weekend!

Something is beeping.

I squint into darkness, trying to figure out what is making that awful noise. The room is unfamiliar — large, dark and cold — far colder than my bedroom. I shudder and push myself further into the mattress, closing my eyes. There are blinking lights, and I can barely put together the idea that the beeping is coming from over there. It hasn't stopped, but I'm too tired to force myself to think about it anymore. I pull the covers over me tightly, ignoring the flashes of discomfort that prick at me, before I fall back asleep.

The second time I wake up, Eric is beside me.

I blink a few times, trying to dispel the persistent sleep dragging at my head, but it's useless. I feel like I could sleep forever, and I have to force myself to keep my eyes open to glance at him. For once, he is not looking at me. He's seated in a chair beside the bed, his form uncomfortably crammed into a strange position so he fits. His head is bent down, his hair sharply parted, and it matches the sharp scowl on his face. I watch him angrily stab at the tablet in his hand, his lips threatening to fall into a sneer at any moment.

He swallows before irritably setting the tablet down on the table beside him.

My eyes close on their own, the urge far too strong to ignore.

I hear Eric sigh heavily; there is a quick moment where his fingers touch mine for a just a second, and then, nothing.

 

His eyes bore into mine.

At one point, before I knew who he was, Eric had looked at me with utter disdain. Those very same grey eyes had flashed over me, making a snap judgment based off my pink dress and my decision to join the faction completely opposite of what had been my home. He'd sneered then, unwilling to have anything to do with me, except he was undeniably being forced to train me.

I never would have guessed it would end up like this.

That he'd be assigned to me and only me, thrusting me into his life in such a way that neither of us knew what was coming. I'd quickly learned how he worked, I'd figured out how to thrive with him, ultimately finding myself utterly unable to leave him.

He'd always looked at me with this intensity, whether it was to urge me on in my training or to simply convey the depth of his feelings for me.

He's looking at me the same way now, only this time it is mixed with relief.

"Hi."

"Hi, Eric." I sit upright, reaching for him with intense desperation. My side and back hurt; they're tight and raw feeling, but I ignore it. My hands grasp whatever I can on Eric, pulling at the fabric of his jacket until he leans over me and I can wrap my arms around him. The position is awkward; my face is shoved up against the rough material, but I try to pull him closer anyway. I feel myself deflate when I realize he is angry, tense and rigid, until I say his name again.

"Eric."

It sounds embarrassingly needy. I wonder if he thinks I should be braver, stronger, less clingy. Maybe he thinks I shouldn't want this sort of comfort from him.

But he gives in easily enough; the hard anger seems to slip away from him, giving way to the same shaky need that I felt upon seeing him. He lets his head fall to touch mine, turning so his cheek rests atop my hair. His arms slide around me the best they can, and he says my name in the same quiet, desperate way that I said his.

 

For once, no one wakes me up.

I find myself drifting in and out of a dream state, sometimes too confused to tell the difference when my eyes open. I can't tell if it's due to whatever they have given me for the pain or if I'm just that exhausted. The dark heavy curtains are kept shut; I spend the entire day unsure if I'm dreaming or not, and I can't seem to figure out what time it is. Sometimes Eric is beside me, his fingers wound through my own, and sometimes he is in the chair beside the bed, barking at someone over the phone.

I hear him tell someone not to interrupt him again unless it is something important, and there are a few heavy threats laced within his words.

The hours slip by in a hazy blur, and by the time someone turns the lights off, wishing me a restful night, I'm already back asleep.

 

They finally open up the curtains and I'm rewarded with bright, explosive rays of sunlight. My room is bathed in them and I feel alive, except for the dull ache that comes and goes through my side and back.

Eric somehow manages to lie beside me, his long legs bent at an angle to fit in the bed. My head is against his chest, my fingers toying with the zipper on his jacket. I wish he'd take it off, but I'd coaxed him into bed without much notice.

It had taken me a minute upon waking to realize I was still in the Erudite hospital. At first, I was too loopy to put it all together. I'd thought maybe Arlene had finally gotten the infirmary upgrade of her dreams.

The room I've been given is almost pretty, very white and clean, and full of machines I'd like to unplug. I don't recognize the large glass windows beneath the curtains, and I certainly don't recognize the staff that tiptoe in and out of my room. They all seem nice, strictly professional, and very courteous. They don't stare, except for one male nurse who has taken my temperature a few times. He tends to look at me curiously for a minute too long, only backing away when he realizes I'm not awake enough to talk to him.

I also can't seem to find out how long I've been here, but it doesn't matter.

Eric is here now, his dark presence even more alluring because he keeps the staff away, especially the male one. He appeared this morning with a weary look on his face, and he nearly collapsed beside me as soon as I asked him to join me.

I push my bare feet so they touch his pants, and I lean my head into him.

"What day is it?"

I want to keep touching him. I feel better any time I'm against him, my hands holding onto him. He doesn't seem to mind. He's got one hand resting around my shoulders, his head bent against my own.

"It's Thursday," he informs me, shifting slightly. The bed is not terribly uncomfortable, but it makes me miss ours back home. I wonder if I'll be able to leave soon, or if Eric can pull some strings so we can leave today. "You got shot on Monday."

I nod, fixing my stare on his jacket.

Bits and pieces have come back to me, floating through my brain while I was asleep. At first I passed them off as being part of a nightmare, but when I woke up to find a nurse adjusting the bandage on my back, I realized it was true. I'd been attacked — well, we all had — and I'd been the only one to get shot. One of the nurses had mentioned the word surgery, and I could only assume she was talking about the very reason why my side and back were hurting.

"Are you okay?" Eric asks quietly, my silence loud in the room. I nod my head, and I twist the zipper tab in my fingers.

"Are you okay?" I try to peek up at him, but I can't, really. I feel him stiffen a bit, and I know he isn't.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Everly."

Everything about him tells me he's not really alright. His fingers dig into my skin, and he seems to curl himself around me, keeping me pressed against him as best as he can.

"Eric?" I pry quietly.

"Hm?"

"Does this mean you won't let me leave Dauntless ever again?" I sit up a bit, turning to look right at him. "Because I got shot?"

My question isn't very pleasing to him, and he doesn't look amused at all. His eyes narrow and he presses his lips together before he shakes his head.

"No. You are never to set foot where I can't see you. Ever. You can protest all you want, but I don't care."

I stare at him, ignoring the ache that I feel every time I move.

"But I like visiting the other factions," I point out softly, knowing my reasoning will mean nothing.

"And I like when I don't get a call saying my wife has been shot," he snaps back, sitting up abruptly. He takes a deep breath and pulls the air back into his lungs. "I'm not letting you get hurt again. Maybe after I can be sure there are no more threats out there you'll be able to go do whatever you want. But right now, no."

I watch the way his eyebrows rise and his eyes seem to darken. "There's plenty we can do in Dauntless for the time being. Recover from this, finish your training, and then we'll talk."

I bite at my lip, pretending to think it over. Deep down I know he's right; it's clear that Evelyn is out for blood, and she isn't afraid to attack in broad daylight. I'm a prime target for her, and the shooting only serves to prove Eric's point: until she's gone, there really is no safe way for me to step into another faction since she could be waiting there for me.

But I shouldn't be worrying about that right now; I don't even know when I can leave here.

"Okay," I answer, smiling up at him. His face relaxes a bit, his eyes losing a hint of their tightness.

"Good." He pulls me back against him, taking a second to be careful of my injuries. I happily lean back into him at an angle, pulling at the shoulder of my hospital gown. I fervently wish for my own clothes, but I am more than grateful to be alive; now isn't really the time to ask for different pajamas.

"How long have you been here?" I ask him, settling against his chest. Eric moves to adjust us, and he shrugs slightly, his stare falling to the plate to the side of me. Someone had brought me breakfast — juice, toast and eggs — but it had all made my stomach feel slippery.

"Since Monday. I came as soon as I got word you'd been shot."

"What happened to Kevin and Justin?" I can only imagine that phone call. I wonder if he assigned them to some terrible position for letting me get shot. It really wasn't their fault, not in the slightest. I'd wanted to do my part. If anyone was to blame, it was me for not getting in the truck when Kevin insisted.

"They're back in Dauntless. They report to Karl, so I'm sure he's using them for something else," Eric answers indifferently, and I am relieved. It doesn't sound like he did anything to them, but then again, it doesn't sound like Eric has been in Dauntless a whole lot.

"Did they…?"

There is a knock on the door, professional and quick, and it opens before I can even so much as say hello. I'm surprised when Daniel walks in, flanked by several of his staff. There is another man dressed in a similar manner, wearing a dark shirt and tie, that stands beside him and the nurses. I half expect Eric to jump up and off the bed as I move off him, but he stays beside me, his hands possessively in place.

"Good morning, Everly. Eric."

Daniel walks towards me, coming to a stop on the side opposite Eric. He sits down, smiling at both of us and opening up a folder. It is full of papers, and I can see my name printed in bold letters on them. I glance at them quickly, then smile back at him.

"You seem to be doing better today," he takes a pen from his pocket, and I watch him sign something before handing it off to the man beside him. "I'd like to introduce my colleague, Dr. Evans. He assisted with your surgery, and he'd like to take a quick peek at your stitches."

I press further into Eric, not really wanting this man to come near me or to look at my injuries. But I finally nod, realizing I don't really have much of a choice. The nurses scatter, a few heading out the door, while one stays behind to jot down numbers on a paper. I eye Dr. Evans cautiously, but I don't recognize him at all.

"I just want to see how it looks," Dr. Evans approaches the bed, and sits down gingerly on the opposite space next to me. I manage to move a fraction of an inch, but Eric's hands stay on me. Dr. Evans carefully opens the side of the hospital gown just enough to see the first bandage on my side. He very gently pushes me back towards Eric, so he can see the bandage that covers part of my back. I flinch when he pulls the edge of the tape up, inch by inch, until he's satisfied with what he can see. I glance over my shoulder, trying to read his face as he studies both where I was shot and operated on, but he keeps his expression neutral.

He pulls the bandages off completely, eyeing the blood that dots the white squares. He narrows his eyes, but finally smiles up at me. "Everything looks fine. We'll schedule a follow up in a few weeks. Dr. Coulter can go over the rest with you."

Eric's fingers tighten the slightest bit, and I adjust my hospital gown back into place. "Thank you."

Dr. Evans stands up, smoothing down his jacket and he turns to Daniel. "I'll meet you at eleven, but I'll make sure everything is signed off on. She should be fine to keep the bandages off unless she starts to notice any bleeding. I'd still recommend another full seven days here."

Daniel waves him off, thanking him while never really looking right at him. I wonder if this doctor is questioning why the Head Neurosurgeon decided to perform the operation, or if it even matters. Daniel obviously has enough cachet to do as he pleases. He waits until Dr. Evans is gone before he turns back to Eric and me, his eyebrows pressing inwards.

He opens his mouth, then closes it without saying anything. The final nurse leaves, throwing him a direct look that he ignores. The door shuts quietly, and the room falls completely silent.

"Well?" Eric's question is sharp, his tone short and annoyed at Daniel's silence. "Can we go?"

Daniel smiles and glances back down at the papers in his lap. I start to worry, wondering if something is really wrong. I don't remember much of what happened, but I can't think of anything that would warrant Daniel's concerned expression.

"Not just yet. There were a few… complications."

"What kind of complications?" Eric says the words between gritted teeth. His posture has completely changed now, and I can feel him rapidly growing uneasy. "Is there something you didn't tell me?"

I look at Daniel briefly before trying to calm Eric down. I fall back against him, putting one hand on his chest. "Eric," I say his name nearly silently, and he only responds by digging his fingers into my shoulder until I can feel his nails against my skin.

"We ran some routine blood work before the surgery. We always check for a few things, but one of the tests came back differently than I expected. As a result, I have to extend my congratulations to you both, because Everly's pregnancy test was positive."

For a moment, neither Eric nor I say anything. I'm still holding onto his jacket, not fully processing what Daniel just said, but when I look up at Eric's face I take note of his darkening expression.

"What?" I turn back to Daniel, dropping my hand. "What did you say?"

Daniel has a funny expression on his face, a mixture of concern and something else I can't quite read. "Your pregnancy test came back positive."

Beside me, Eric stiffens and sits up perfectly straight, his stare locked on his father. "Are you telling me she got shot, and she's pregnant, and you went ahead and operated on her?" He says the words flatly, and I swear my heart stops beating.

Pregnant.

I'm pregnant.

It's not like it was never going to happen. Eric had expressed his quiet desire for a family, and we hadn't exactly been any sorts of careful. In fact, we'd spent more time in bed than anything else. But hearing the news from Daniel, while sitting here recovering from a bullet wound, makes me feel like I'm dreaming.

"I'm really pregnant?" I repeat, turning to look up at Eric.

He glances down at me, and I watch as he swallows thickly, a jumble of emotions flashing through his eyes. Along with his tensed posture, he has clenched his jaw; anger radiates from him at this news. I can see his mind processing Daniel's words, each thought only serving to make him angrier.

Daniel stands suddenly, fumbling through the pages in his hands. "Yes. I'd assume between six and eight weeks. And even though Everly was lucky, the operation was unavoidable. The shooter wasn't at point blank range when the gun was fired, so fortunately, the bullet did minimal damage. However, there was no exit wound, and our scans revealed the bullet was lodged near her spinal cord. Had I left it, and had it migrated over time, she risked paralysis."

I look back at him in surprise. I'd felt the bullet enter my side, but I hadn't thought it was bad. I figured it just needed a few stitches and I'd be good as new.

Daniel's explanation does little to calm Eric down.

"And when I got here? You failed to tell me my wife was pregnant when you operated on her. I should have been told exactly what was going on with my own wife," he snarls at his father, and I watch as Daniel visibly shrinks back, frustration washing over him. "Did you even stop to think if it was safe? For her or the baby?"

Daniel looks rightfully insulted at Eric's dismissal of his years of experience in medical practice. "Did I take the time to think if it was safe? Of course I did. I wouldn't have done anything that wasn't absolutely necessary. Everly was under general anesthesia for a short time, and she was carefully monitored."

Daniel takes a breath and composes himself before adding, "I would never do anything to put Everly at risk. We took every precaution we could. I waited until she was conscious and lucid before sharing her test results with you because she is the patient here, after all, and deserves to hear it along with you."

Eric says nothing, at least not until I nudge him. His grip on my arm has turned painful and I wiggle away, ignoring the dark glare on his face.

"Eric," I say his name gently. "Calm down. He helped me."

Eric looks down at me, then nods at my words. "Fine. Thank you for your help," he tells him curtly.

Daniel nods, and I can see that he wants to say more, but he knows a losing battle when he sees one. I imagine a lot of Eric's upbringing was this way. Daniel sighs in defeat, and then closes the folder in his hands. "I would do anything to help her, Eric. Believe me, I didn't want this to happen to Everly any more than you did. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to run these forms upstairs. Dr. Evans forgot most of what he needed."

"Okay," Eric answers, still looking at me.

"Thank you, Daniel," I tell him, and he throws me a small smile before he exits the room.

"Um, Eric..." I hear the door to the room shut with a click, and I try hard to focus on one thought in my mind. There are thousands of them, all swirling around in a jumble. "Everything's okay, right? I'm fine and the baby…" I trail off, noticing the way Eric is still staring at me.

"It's not fine," he says shortly. He shoves himself away from me, off the bed altogether, and he stands there with his spine painfully rigid. "I sent you here. I sent my own wife out on a mission and she got shot in the process. I knew it was a bad idea. I should have told you to stay behind and do something else."

He's frantic now, his words coming faster and faster. I've seen Eric lose control a few times, but this is different. This is a desperate rush of guilt he's dealing with. He's blaming himself, and the way his hands clench into fists tells me he's trying hard to keep it together.

I sit up straighter, shoving the covers aside, trying not to wince at the flash of pain. "This isn't your fault. There was no way you could have known the factionless would attack."

"It is my fault. They intercepted the radio transmission. I instructed Kevin to radio the minute you arrived in Erudite. I basically told them where you were," Eric says the words tightly, his chest heaving. "I broadcast your exact location, and as a result, they were waiting for you."

"But it could have been anyone. They would have attacked whoever came here, not just me," I protest. Eric shakes his head violently.

"Kevin said your name, Everly." Eric snarls the words, my name especially, and I shrink back against the pillow. His anger isn't directed at me, but it feels just as sharp as if it were.

"Okay," I tell him, my eyes searching the room for anywhere to land but on him. This is not the way I hoped this moment would turn out. I always assumed the day I found out I was pregnant would be a day we would be celebrating. I never imagined that I would get the news while sitting in a hospital bed, listening to Eric berate himself over an attack by the factionless. I try to refocus him, hoping to snap him out of his angry disposition. "But the baby and I are okay now. And that's what matters, right?"

"Yeah." Eric nods to himself, and he raises his eyes to lock onto my own as some sort of realization settles over him. Neither of us blink, nor do we dare look away. Then he walks back over to the bed, climbing in and settling back beside me so he can grasp my jaw, tilting my head to look up at him. I watch him chew on the inside of his cheek before he leans into me, his stare as intense as ever.

Then he kisses me fiercely, his lips crashing into mine until I really can't breathe. His hands move to my hair, slipping through until they tangle in place, keeping me against him. In that moment I feel my lungs burn, my chest constricting tightly as I kiss Eric until he finally breaks apart from me. He takes a few deep breaths, touching my cheek slowly.

I look up at him, completely and utterly lost as he smiles, letting his fingers smooth my hair out of his way.

"Everly," he says my name gently, so sweetly enamored that it's hard to believe it's coming from him. He blinks and reaches down to place his warm palm on my abdomen, then grins widely. "Now you're really never leaving Dauntless ever again."

 

The next few hours are a blur.

Eric, unfortunately, pries himself away from me, telling me he's got a few things to do before this afternoon. I am woefully disappointed, almost teary at the thought of him leaving, until he kisses my forehead and tells me he's going to fetch my pajamas.

Almost immediately upon his exit, a slew of nurses appear, requesting all sorts of things from me now that I'm awake and alert. They take more blood, repeat my vitals enough times that I surprise myself by snapping at them to stop, and then they decide that I should take a walk. They help me swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and it takes me a second before the rush of dizziness goes away.

Moments later, I'm overjoyed to be standing in the hallway, holding my hospital gown in place carefully, my feet firmly planted on the tile floor. It feels good to stand, to stretch every muscle and ligament as I head down the hallway, guarded by a few nurses. I find it far easier to walk than I'd anticipated, but I'm not totally immune to the sharp pain I feel as we turn the corner. I'm also surprised to find multiple other patients on this floor, but they all seem to be worse off than me. I peer into a few rooms as we walk by, catching glimpses of busy hospital staffers as well as several people dressed in royal blue clothing who are hovering over beds.

By the time I return to my own room, I feel smugly pleased with myself. I'm convinced that I've done well enough that this should serve as proof that I can leave soon.

"Good?" I hesitate by the visitor chairs, not quite ready to climb back into bed, though my side and back are burning. A few of them nod in a noncommittal manner, but no one says anything else. The nurses finally leave, except for one. She brings me a gingery drink and some graham crackers, and tells me as soon as I'm done eating a few bites, I can take a shower.

"I'm going to wait with you, so just be careful. If you need help just yell. I'll be right outside the shower." Her name is Camille, and she watches me eat a few bites with the same vigilant stare that Daniel has. I swallow down the cracker, enthused at the idea of taking a shower.

"I can really take a shower?" I ask her, and she nods.

"Just be careful." She motions for me to follow her, and as she walks me into the bathroom, I feel suddenly nervous at the idea of handling such a simple task.

"How should I…" I realize I have no clue if I'm supposed to be careful of my wounds or attempt to wash them.

Camille smiles, already having predicted my question. "Wash your hair, then wash the rest of you. You don't need to scrub the stitches at all." She turns at the knock at the door, her head cocked towards the sound. "You go ahead and get in. I'll be right back. But go slowly, and if you think you might slip, just wait for me."

I nod, waiting until she's walked out the door to take off the heavy hospital gown. I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, trying to ignore the stark paleness of my skin. I look gross; my hair is a wild mess, there is a tiredness to my eyes, and a bruise that blossoms from the knot of stitches on my side. I stare at them, the thread stark against my skin, holding my side together. Before I teeter into the abyss of self-pity, I remind myself that I'm alive. I'm fine — my side and back will heal, my skin will liven up as soon as I'm back to normal, and I can comb the knots out of my hair.

I give myself one final look as I let my hand graze between my hipbones for just a moment, trying to recognize that I am actually pregnant. The thought makes me feel warm, a little bit nervous, but mostly pleased at the news.

I hear Camille fumbling around, her voice carrying into the bathroom as I step into the shower.

It feels luxurious to wash my skin clean. I use the surprisingly fancy soap that's been provided for me, scrubbing my hair until it lathers and letting the conditioner slip through the ends. The door opens further, and Camille takes a seat outside the shower. I can almost imagine her sitting there, assigned to make sure I don't slip and fall on my ass.

"I'm almost done," I call out, closing my eyes and enjoying the warm water. The only thing that could make this any better would be if Eric was back, waiting for me outside the shower instead of her. But I focus on the positives, squeezing most of the water out of my hair.

"Take your time. Your husband dropped off clothes for you. He just stepped out with Dr. Coulter," Camille offers up. I take a few extra minutes to just stand under the stream of warm water until I feel sufficiently clean. I finally force myself to turn the water off, and I move the curtain aside to reach for a towel.

"Better?" Camille asks me, and I nod at her. I decide I like her the best out of all the nurses. She's tall, with long pretty hair that's in a bouncy ponytail. She's older than the more junior nurses that seem to flock around Daniel, and I would bet she's probably worked here her entire life.

"Much better."

She offers me her hand, and I gratefully accept it, stepping out of the shower and onto the cold floor. A chill runs through me, and I wrap the towel tighter. Camille points to a bag that's been set on the floor, and I snort when I realize Eric has put my clothes into the very same bag my mother used for our wedding gift.

"He said he grabbed whatever he could find. You get dressed, and I'll help you back into bed."

Disappointment washes over me; I was hoping she'd tell me to get dressed to go home, but I realize Daniel didn't say a word about me leaving.

I rifle through the bag, pulling out whatever Eric has brought for me — soft, pretty pink underwear that makes me smile, and nothing else but his shirts and my pajama shorts. I blink at them in confusion, sorting through everything to see if maybe he shoved my stuff to the bottom. There are no real pajamas of my own, just his shirts.

I shrug, but the confusion leaves me as soon as I pull his shirt over my head. Even though it's been freshly laundered, it smells like him. I step into the shorts he brought, and I carry the bag out with me.

"How long do you think I'll stay?" I ask Camille. She busies herself with fluffing the pillows on the bed and pulling the sheets down for me. "And you don't have to do that."

She shakes her head and smiles when she notices what I'm wearing. "No worries. Come lie down. And I don't know what your orders are written for, but I do know you were given a little something to help speed up the healing process. I'd imagine they want you to stay for several more days. Dr. Coulter is keeping an eye out for infection, and I think they'd like you to have an ultrasound before you head home."

I set the bag down on the table and I wonder if they'll wait until Eric is back. I feel nervous about doing anything of the sort without him. He should be here with me, especially for something related to the baby. "When will they do that?"

Camille smiles brightly. "I'll ask Daniel for you." She says his first name so easily that I barely notice she didn't call him by his full title. I wonder if she's worked with him long enough that she's allowed to forgo such formalities.

I don't think about it for too long.

By the time I thank her and climb into the bed, a sudden wave of extreme fatigue has crashed over me. I guess walking was more exhausting than I'd anticipated. I pull the covers up with me, settling on my right side as best I can. There is a momentary discomfort, but it's gone the moment my head hits the pillow.

"Take a nap. I think Eric is going to grab your lunch for you." Camille smooths the blanket over me, and I don't even have time to tell her I'm not hungry before I fall asleep.

 

I wake up to Eric arguing with his father.

Not so much arguing as loudly voicing his displeasure, while Daniel tries to calmly explain why I should stay here for at least two more days.

"You don't want to find out how far along she is?" Daniel looks worried, and he takes off his glasses so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. He has an air of exasperation about him, one that he's probably accustomed to when dealing with Eric. "I'm not asking that she stay for two weeks. And I already overrode Dr. Evan's recommendation that she stay for another week provided there are no further complications. But we do have a few more tests we should run…"

"She can do them in Dauntless. We have everything she needs there," Eric snaps, crossing his arms. He stands in front of his father, not backing down in the slightest. "Arlene can handle it."

At Arlene's name, Daniel looks mildly insulted. He sighs heavily, shaking his head. "Eric, please. Give me a minute here. I'm trying to do what's best for Everly."

Eric stays silent as the moments tick by, the two of them locked in a battle of wills. "Are you saying I'm not?" When he finally answers, his tone is icy and frigid. I watch as he tilts his head to the side the same way he does right before he punches someone.

"Absolutely not. I understand you want to take her home, but she should take things easy. Give her a few days to recover. I would hate for something to happen to her…" He pauses, glancing over in my direction. He makes eye contact with me and smiles softly. "...Or the baby. Just give her a few more days. Then you two can go home. I thought for sure you'd want everything done here. The equipment in Dauntless isn't quite as sophisticated as it is here."

"Then I'll have it sent there," Eric snarls. I resist the urge to gently remind him he's being ridiculous right now. Though maybe he really does have enough authority to pull that off.

"You can't have all of that transported to Dauntless overnight. You could certainly have Arlene order it if her budget allows for it."

Eric stays still, then finally his shoulders slump in recognized defeat. "Fine. Two days. But not a minute more."

He looks back over his shoulder and realizes I'm awake, watching him intently. I sit up, trying to look like I haven't been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Hi," I quietly tell him, settling myself so I'm sitting up against the pillows.

Eric stalks over to me, coming to sit down on the side of the bed. He eyes me up and down, inspecting me carefully to make sure nothing has happened since he's been gone. When he's finally satisfied, his eyes meet mine and he smiles.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," I reply, and I smile back at him. "Are you staying here tonight?"

Eric looks over his shoulder at Daniel, then finally back at me. He sighs, toying with the seam on the blanket before he answers. "Yes, I am."

 

By the next morning, I am ready to leave.

My night with Eric had sounded dreamy in theory — for once, it would be just the two of us in a quiet room with no distractions. I lay down with my head on his chest, my legs slid between his, and his hand resting on my hip, just below the stitches, occasionally slipping more towards my bellybutton. The room was surprisingly quiet, the noise of the machines turned way down, and the only thing I could really hear was his heartbeat.

He'd spent a few quiet minutes where the only thing he did was whisper how much he loved me. It spoke volumes really; he was still furious over the fact that I was shot, but there was a joy that came from him, in the darkest part of the night, as he murmured the words in my ear. He didn't mention the baby, and I knew why: it felt dangerous and scary to say the words aloud, as though we might jinx ourselves.

So instead I focused on him, enjoying the feeling of being pressed into his chest.

And while there was no one knocking on our door at weird hours of the night, there were plenty of nurses coming in and out to check on things. The male one lingered a moment too long by my side as he fussed with some machine above me, earning a dark glare from Eric before he scampered away. I woke up several times, overly warm and overly tired. Despite being dead to the world, Eric didn't look comfortable either. He'd stripped down to his T-shirt and boxers, but he slept fitfully, and he finally gave up on sleep sometime very early in the morning. I felt him climb out of the bed, moving as quietly as possible. When I lifted my head up a minute later, he was gone, fully dressed as he vanished through the door and out into the hallway.

He does return eventually, coffee in hand.

"They only had decaf," he tells me, sounding far crankier than normal. I appreciate the gesture, even with the lack of caffeine, and decide today is the day I will convince Daniel that I am going home.

 

"I brought you a few books to read. I thought you might be somewhat bored in here."

Daniel sits on the edge of the hospital bed, one ankle crossed over his leg. He looks nothing short of professional; today's jacket looks crisper than yesterday's, and his socks are as fancy as ever. I stare at the argyle print while he talks, wondering just how many pairs he really has.

I look up from my intense staring and realize he's brought more than a few books with him. Some of them look similar to the ones that line his office shelves. I quickly skim the titles and notice they are all pregnancy-related.

"A couple of these might be somewhat heavy reading. Not that I think you wouldn't be able to get through them. But they may get a little clinical." He looks embarrassed for a second, but I brush it off. I'm not insulted; at least two of them look like medical textbooks. I can only imagine the contents are rather dry.

"Thank you. I appreciate it." I reach for them, picking up the first one and turning it over. There is a smiling woman on the back beside a paragraph of information detailing why I should read this one. "I'll look through these today."

Daniel beams, pleased with my response. "Do you need anything else? Everything is alright in here?"

I glance around the room, wondering what on earth he could possibly think I'll need.

"Everything is fine. I just hope I can go home soon."

His smile falters, and I immediately feel like a huge jerk.

"It's got nothing to do with you. I just want to sleep in my own bed." I frantically try to smooth it over, and to my relief, he seems to understand.

"Soon. We just took a few extra precautions since you were in a bit of an unusual situation." Daniel's phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket. He answers quickly, listening silently before telling someone he'll be right there. "I need to go check on a patient a few rooms down. I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Okay. Thank you for these. And I'm glad you'll be coming back." I smile up at him, and he brightens up considerably.

Daniel stands up from the bed and stops beside me, touching the side of my hair gently for a split second. Then he moves his hand away as though he's committed a heinous, unprofessional act, when in reality, it's more fatherly than anything. He leaves quickly and I settle back against the bed, tucking my legs beneath me, debating the books in front of me. My curiosity wins out; I reach for one of the books, and I immerse myself in it.

 

An hour later, I am nervous.

I had always thought I was brave. Picking Dauntless had been brave, training with only Eric had been brave, falling in love with Eric was brave, pushing forward without looking back even though Evelyn was determined to kill me was brave.

But as I sit and read, lost in a haze of a million bits of pregnancy advice, I no longer feel brave. I feel terrified. I read through dozens of things that could go wrong, each scenario far worse than the next. I read through multiple signs and symptoms that could imply impending doom, immediately panicking. So far, I've had not a single symptom of pregnancy, other than being tired. But I'm always tired. I work hard, spend my nights on top of or underneath Eric, and spend my days running around Dauntless. Had Daniel not shown me the test results, I wouldn't even believe him.

But I've seen the proof. My name atop a page of blood work data, the pregnancy test result highlighted.

I turn the page, relaxing as soon as I get to the part about the importance of not self-diagnosing. It tells me to discuss all concerns with my physician, and had Daniel found anything wrong, I know he would have told me. I scan the page until I reach the very end, realizing that I have no idea how old the baby is. I decide that I should find out — the sooner the better. I smile at the picture on the opposite page, a happy family holding a newborn baby in their arms.

The door clicks open, the sound interrupting my staring at the family's picture, and I glance up expecting Daniel to walk in.

But it's not him.

My stomach drops as though I might throw up, turning over repeatedly as I stare at the figure standing in the doorway. She cocks her head at me, her eyes glued to the book on my lap and her lips pressed together so tightly they are almost nonexistent.

Blythe.

She stands there, unmoving, analyzing me with every second that ticks by, and for a second I think she might leave. Then she finally takes a step forward into the room, the clack of her heels echoing loudly on the tile floor; her glare never leaves me. She doesn't stop until she's right at the end of the bed, allowing her fingertips to barely rest on the end rail.

"Is it true?"

She asks me evenly, her tone icy as ever, skipping any sort of real greeting. She takes in the books on the bed, the very one in my hand, and I swear she bites down hard enough to shatter her own jaw. I stay silent. I can't answer her; I'm not sure what to tell her, or if I should say anything.

She grows impatient while every single word of my unsure answer stays stuck in my throat.

"I asked you a question. You will answer me." She hisses the words at me with a dark hatred that's unparalleled by anything she expressed during our first dinner in Erudite. If she didn't like me then, it's clear she despises me now.

I swallow, the nauseous feeling not subsiding at all. There is a dizzy moment where I fear I might actually throw up on her, but it tapers down after a few seconds. I set the book down gingerly, closing the pages without breaking eye contact. I quickly think of my options, even though there are few. I could get up and walk away, try to find Daniel and politely ask him to help, I could feign confusion over what she's asking me, or I could simply answer her.

Maybe this will be it, the thing that will soothe her immense hatred of everything that has to do with Eric and me. She can't be so nasty that the news of her own grandchild would send her here like some wicked witch in a finely tailored dress.

So I nod my head at her, and I smile, making it as pleasant as possible.

"Yes." I sit up straighter, lengthening my spine as she continues to stare at me. "I'm pregnant."

She looks like I just slapped her across the face. One of her hands flies up to cover her mouth, but not enough to hide the way her lips curl up in disgust, effectively baring her teeth.

"Is it his?" She regains her composure quickly. "Is it Eric's?"

Her words catch me off guard, and my mouth falls open. I wonder if I really heard her say what I think she just said. She's still pinning me with such an intense stare that I fumble for a moment until I can finally speak.

"Did you just ask me if the baby is Eric's?"

"That's exactly what I asked you. Is. It. His?" She repeats the words slowly, as though I am too stupid to comprehend what she's saying.

Her words make me feel physically ill, and my stomach lurches again. I try to breathe slowly, focusing my gaze on just one point in front of me until she blurs away. I could never hurt Eric like that. I've never wanted anyone but him, never wanted anything but a life with him. I know her words are meant to hurt me, or perhaps to get me to confess to something that might be strong enough to break apart my marriage. But there is nothing to confess to her.

"Why would you ask me that?"

Blythe smiles, but it is icy, and full of contempt. "I'm not stupid. I know that Amity promotes a sort of…" She pauses, then sneers, "... Free love environment. They aren't known for being particularly loyal to one partner."

I try to keep my composure the same way I did at the dinner, but it's slipping slowly. And unfortunately for me, it's slipping away to reveal a rather emotional version of myself that I'd rather she not see. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to quell the burning that's growing behind them, and I shake my head.

"I would never—"

"Nonsense," she interrupts. "I've counseled plenty of girls like you after they can't adjust to another faction's social rules. You don't just change your ways overnight. It wouldn't surprise me if you had slipped up."

I stare at her in utter shock.

"Trying to pass the child off as Eric's would be smart. I'll give you that." She smiles at me contemptuously. "But —"

And then, something in me snaps. I've had enough of her, enough of her dismissal of me as a person, and enough of her unwarranted hatred at the mere sight of me.

"That's it," I interrupt her, finally having had enough. "Get out of my room."

Blythe blinks in mock confusion. "I'm sorry, did you just tell me to leave?"

I sit back up, the queasiness now gone. It's been replaced by a heavy anger, and while I dislike the feeling, it spurs me on to stand up to her. "I said get out. This conversation is over. There's nothing more you need to say to me that I want to hear."

She blinks again, her eyes lighting up in amusement.

"It's funny you think you have any grounds to order me around." She purses her lips into a caustic smile, seemingly not done insulting me. "You've already caused an attack on my home. You're not really in any position to give orders."

At her words, I swing my legs to the side of the bed, and I'm on my feet before she can say anything else. I try hard not to wince at the sudden burst of pain, but it's nearly impossible.

"I said get out. I didn't cause any attack. The factionless are a real threat and Evelyn is a real threat, one which you and Jeanine chose to ignore in favor of hunting down people with unpleasant test results."

At Jeanine's name, she blanches, her mouth tightening. "Don't you dare say her—"

"I said leave. Stay away from me, stay away from Eric, and stay away from our baby, too." My tone sounds menacing, despite my casual appearance and the warm throbbing that has returned to my side. I stare her down, unwavering even when she raises her finger at me.

"How dare you talk to me that way, you little—" She's cut off by the sudden appearance of Daniel and Camille, both walking through the door with a few other nurses behind them. Daniel assesses the situation quickly, his eyes wide and his expression darkening when he realizes Blythe is standing here with her finger pointed at me. He looks disappointed as he reaches for her arm in an attempt to pull her back a step, and she jerks away as though he's struck her.

"Don't touch me," she threatens, her blonde hair swaying just over her shoulders. It's the exact same length as it was the last time I saw her, and it only serves to remind me how much of a control freak she is.

"What is going on in here?" Daniel keeps his voice calm, and he tries to keep his focus on Blythe despite the curious stares from the nurses. "What were you saying to Everly? Why is she out of bed?"

Blythe smiles at him, throwing me the same look over her shoulder before she turns back to her husband. "I was asking Everly about the baby. Or is that some sort of secret? That he's managed to finally knock up his little girlfriend?"

"Blythe," Daniel says her name warningly, his eyes narrowing. "She's his wife. Have some respect." He firmly says the last part, and I try to push back the rush of emotions running through me. I'm reminded of the first time I saw her; she used the same insult on me then, attempting to point out my supposed insignificance in Eric's life.

"What part would you like me to respect? The fact that she ruined our lives or the fact that she continues to do so on a daily basis?"

"Stop. Right now," Daniel barks at her, his tone losing the friendly politeness it usually has. I wonder if he overheard her earlier questioning because he looks livid. Beside him Camille stays perfectly still, clutching papers to her chest. "This is neither the place nor the time for this."

"This should be none of your business. Though you've certainly made it your business, haven't you?" Blythe raises her eyebrow at him. Her words sound suspicious, and rightfully so. I notice Camille taking a step back, her eyes flicking to me for a fraction of a second.

To his credit, Daniel ignores her and gestures towards the door. "You need to wait outside. Leave her alone. Now."

She looks at him like he's lost his mind. "Oh, now you're telling me to leave? Whose side are you on, Daniel?"

Daniel makes the mistake of looking at me, unconsciously trying to reassure me that everything will be fine, and Blythe picks up on it immediately.

"Are you serious?" She says the words lowly, dripping with a venom that makes me want to slap her. "You really think there's anything to gain by being associated with her?"

"I said that's enough, Blythe," Daniel says loudly, and all the nurses try to appear busy.

"I would never have expected this from you," Blythe counters, not moving an inch. She pauses to look at me, then at Camille. "My own husband, busying himself over such trivial affairs."

Right then and there, I realize why his goodbye had seemed so heavy. It's all because of her.

"Blythe, she doesn't need the stress right now. If you want to have a rational conversation, then give her a few days. I'm sure Everly won't mind talking things over with you."

I don't have the heart to tell him that I don't think Blythe wants to have a rational conversation with me. She takes a step towards him, until she's right in his face, and then she very easily destroys everything Eric and I have accomplished with Daniel.

"Would you care to explain your sudden concern for her? This seems a little extreme for someone you've met twice."

Her pointed words slice through the air, making the tension in the room even worse. There is no way for Daniel to explain his concern without confessing that he came to visit us. Admitting he's tried to have a relationship with his son and me won't make this any better, but it's the only logical reason for him being this worried. I have the sudden idea to tell her I asked for his help, to take the entire blame for this so she'll leave him alone. But she keeps talking, more harsh curiosities spilling from her lips.

"You seem to be highly invested in her and this baby," Blythe presses on, goading Daniel to say something.

But Daniel keeps his expression neutral, his eyes only on his wife in front of him. "Blythe, you know better than anyone that I have a responsibility to help anyone who needs it. I've taken an oath —"

"This is one case where I think you could have made an exception. She brought a war here. Our city was under fire because of her very presence. There was no need for you to help her," Blythe hisses.

Camille's jaw drops, and she takes another step away from both of them before glancing at me sympathetically. I wonder how much she knows about Blythe, because she doesn't look surprised at Blythe's dislike of me, but she does look horrified by her lack of human compassion for me.

"That's enough." Daniel suddenly raises his voice to a level I'm sure is reserved for when he's run out of patience. "Blythe, go wait for me in my office."

"Absolutely not," she takes a step back and folds her arms over her chest. "Not until you explain to me your sudden interest in this Amity trash."

"What did you just call my wife?"

My head jerks towards the door, my heart tightening at the blur of black that walks through it. Eric stops in the doorway, an infuriated expression darkening his face.

"Does he know?" Blythe asks. I have no idea what she's talking about. It doesn't look like anyone does, but Blythe is on some sort of warpath, and she continues on. "Does he know that you're pregnant?"

"Of course I know. Now get out of here," Eric barks at her, aggravated by the unexpected visit from his mother. "Who the hell even granted you access to Everly's room?"

Blythe raises her eyebrow at him, her mouth twisting downwards. "Are you forgetting who I am? Has Everly warped your mind so much that you've forgotten the authority I have?"

The arrival of Eric has done little to defuse the situation; in fact, it only seems to have worsened it. I thought upon seeing him that I would feel relieved — that maybe this tension would vanish, that Blythe and her nasty insults would leave, and I could forget that she ever stopped by. But Eric has clearly overheard what was going on before he stepped foot in the room. He looks incensed — a blinding disgust at the sight of his mother is clearly reflected in his expression as he walks towards me.

"I swore I just heard you call her trash."

"I called her what she is," Blythe informs him. She eyes him up and down, and his Dauntless uniform looks as stiff as her dress. "I only came down here because I heard she was here and I wanted to see if it was true."

She turns her stare to me and she swallows. "You can imagine how displeased I was when I heard she was pregnant. I was hoping this was a phase you were going through. That you'd be done with her by now."

Eric looks at me, and his hands ball into fists. "Fuck off," he snarls, losing all patience with her.

She reacts instantly, immediately turning to face him, ready to reprimand him as though he were a child. She takes a step towards him, but Eric turns back, pulling himself to his full height, and she immediately stops at the sight of him. He looks ready to pummel her into the ground, mother or no mother.

She must realize this, because she sighs heavily and waits a beat before glancing back at Daniel.

"If that's what you want, then I'll leave you to it. But I'll remind you of this: Everly's been a walking disaster since you met her. She's just a useless girl who doesn't know her place in this world. It definitely isn't here, destroying my home. And it certainly shouldn't be beside you, either. You must be very proud of the way she has singlehandedly destroyed everything you've ever wanted."

I've been trying to hold my tongue this entire time; I've only said enough to answer her without giving her any sort of ammunition. But I can't help but feel drained, my shoulders finally slumping at the disaster in front of me.

I get it.

There is no one that will ever be good enough for Eric. He may love me, he may be willing to do anything for me, but his choices will forever drive a wedge through his family. I cannot undo Blythe's hatred of me no matter what I do. I could oversee an entire faction, lead an army to victory, I could love Eric wholeheartedly until the day I die, and still I wouldn't be worthy of her approval.

The worst part isn't Blythe twisting this to blame me for an attack on the city, it's the rapid dissolution of my and Eric's relationship with Daniel. As I stand here, watching Daniel staring at me with utter remorse on his face, I know everything we've accomplished is now crumbling down around us. I'm not stupid, and neither is Blythe. Her comments lead me to believe she knows he's seen me beyond the two dinners we've all shared. I've put him in a dangerous position, and now this is the fallout.

There is only one thing to do, and that is to stop this now, before things escalate any further.

"Just leave. All of you."

My words sound bleak; Eric notices immediately and he stalks over to me, nearly knocking Camille out of the way. He stands in front of me, blocking everyone so I can only see him.

"I'm taking you home," he tells me lowly, his hands finding my own, his grip anchoring himself to me. "We'll leave. I'll make sure Blythe doesn't come near you ever again. I promise you." He swallows thickly, and his grip intensifies. "Don't listen to a word she's said, Everly. She's a terrible human being."

I try to nod, but I mostly bite my lip so hard that there's a metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

Behind him there are all sorts of protests. I can hear Daniel's panicked words that I should stay, Blythe's nasty protest that I shouldn't even be here in the first place, and Camille telling me to get back in bed.

 

Eric helps me gather up everything I need to take home with me.

It's not much: my clothes that he brought, a few bottles of the prenatal vitamins that Camille quietly instructed me to take once a day, and my boots that have a few smears of my own blood on them. I shove them on my feet, feeling uncomfortable while Eric helps me by lacing them up.

When he's done, I stand carefully and run my hands through my hair, wishing I had a hair tie.

Eric has been quiet ever since Blythe and Daniel left. Daniel had yanked her out of the room, her acidic voice still echoing in the hallway until she suddenly went silent. I can't even imagine what he said to make her quiet down, but I don't really want to know. I heard my name mixed in a few times, and it only further solidified my theory that she knows Daniel came to visit Eric and me. I'm not sorry for trying to get to know him; I've come to adore him as much as my own father. I'm only sorry that Blythe is such a miserable person.

"You ready?" Eric stops beside me, looking me up and down. He smiles slightly, and I nod.

"I think so. Do you have everything?" I ask him, and he pushes the bag towards me.

I glance down at the large bag in his hand; my clothes are neatly folded, the bottles of vitamins set atop of them, and at the very top of the pile is the book Daniel gave me. I stare at it and realize there's only one thing left I have to do.

 

"I wish you would stay just a few more days. One more day, even," Daniel says tiredly. He looks overwrought; he's taken off his glasses, and I watch him rub his eyes for a moment, the stress now more apparent than ever.

He's perched on the edge of my bed with a pile of folders and papers in his lap. He shifts through them, aimlessly signing his neat signature along various pages without much enthusiasm. He looks at me occasionally, waiting for me to change my mind.

But I don't. I lean back against the pillows, shifting myself into a more comfortable position as I try to smile at him.

"I should go home. I think you and I know it's for the best," I tell him softly, and he shakes his head unhappily.

"It's not. But I understand why you want to leave," Daniel answers.

"I'll be fine. I can always have Arlene help me if anything starts to hurt," I offer up, but it does little to ease the expression on his face.

"Everly." He pauses, letting his head drop down to the page he's pulled out. He stares at it before he continues. "I am so sorry about what she said to you. I want you to know I don't share any of the same ideas as her. I don't think you'd ever do anything to hurt Eric, and you'd never…" He trails off, and after what feels like forever, he finally looks up at me. "You love him too much to purposely hurt him."

"I do love him. I'm sorry that Blythe won't ever be okay with it."

Daniel really can't argue with that statement. He puts his glasses back on and leans back, a look of remorse crossing his face. "I wish I could change her, Everly. At the very least, get her to understand where I'm coming from."

"Does she know?" I ask, and I watch him sign off on a sheet with my name on it. There are all sorts of instructions written on it. He puts an X next to one of the boxes and underlines the words beside it. "Does she know you came to see us?"

"She assumes. But she has every right to be angry that I went behind her back." Daniel keeps his gaze on the same mess of papers, and finally he exhales sharply. "You were very lucky that the shooter used a small caliber weapon. Anything bigger, or at a closer distance, would have caused much more trauma. But I'm still recommending another week of bed rest before you even think about going back to work. You need some time to heal, and I'd hate for you to push yourself faster than necessary."

"Alright."

I agree easily, even though the idea of bed rest doesn't sound pleasant. I'm secretly glad that Eric stepped out of the room so he won't overhear Daniel's instructions. Eric told me he was going off in search of caffeinated coffee, but I know the real reason he left is because he doesn't want to see Daniel. He's still angry at himself, angry at his father, and only sort of angry at me. But Daniel is an easy target for Eric to blame, and it probably feels natural for him to direct his anger back at his father.

"I'll send these over to Arlene. If you start to feel ill, notice any redness in the wound, or run a fever, then you need to go see her immediately. She'll have you transferred back here if necessary."

I nod at him, hoping it doesn't come down to that.

"Does she know I got shot?" I toy with the edge of the blanket, already knowing the answer. I can only assume she's waiting for me back in Dauntless, primed and ready to take over the minute we arrive.

"She does. I can't just send you back there without being certain that someone knows what's going on." Daniel still sounds serious, and I try to smile up at him. "Any other questions for me?"

I shake my head. I want to ask him about Blythe and what happened with her, but that seems far too intrusive. He notices I've turned my stare back to the blanket, and he sighs heavily.

"Everly, I don't want you to worry. I'll figure it out. I know what I need to do. Don't spend another minute worrying over Blythe."

"It's alright. I just don't want to cause any more problems. You've done enough for me," I tell him as gently as possible. I almost wish he'd sent a nurse to bring me my discharge papers, because I've made up my mind and this feels like the worst decision I'll ever have to make. I wish there were some other options, but there are none. As long as Blythe is alive and in Erudite, there will be no way for me to see Daniel without her being aware of it. I'm sure she's now going to keep a watchful eye on him, and any sort of visit to Dauntless will make her highly suspicious.

I slowly climb off the bed and stand there, keeping my stare on the floor in front of me. Even the flooring here is pristine: white tiles with tiny flecks of blue, so shiny I can almost see myself in their reflection.

"In fact, I wanted to tell you…"

I stop, the words refusing to leave my mouth, but this is really my only option.

"Everly…" Daniel says my name, stepping off the bed. He stands in front of me, and when I glance up, he looks worried. "Everly, what are you trying to say?"

I step forward to wrap my arms around him until I'm hugging him. My head presses against the stiff fabric of his dress shirt. He reminds of Eric in a lot of ways right now, uncomfortable with my gesture of affection. But he eventually relaxes slightly, letting himself carefully hug me back, even if it is a bit awkward. I try to ignore the stabbing feeling in my chest and the way my eyes burn; instead, I focus on memorizing this moment before gently breaking away from our embrace.

Daniel looks at me in confusion; when I am finally able to speak, he merely nods at me.

"Goodbye, Daniel."


	51. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to BK2U for editing this chapter!

My return to Dauntless was swift.

After saying goodbye to Daniel, I found out Eric refused to let us drive back in one of the trucks. He arranged for a car to pick us up, and while it was a much gentler ride than the rugged armored vehicles, it seemed far too pretentious and ultimately unnecessary. My side and back would hurt regardless of how I sat, and combined with the fact that I'd all but said a permanent goodbye to my father-in-law, I felt pretty raw, both inside and out.

Upon arriving at the southernmost entrance to the compound, Eric whisked us through a set of doors in the back, right past a few guards standing there with surprised looks on their faces. I didn't recognize them, but I didn't get a good look, either. We were at the elevators before I realized it, my side aching with every step, until we finally reached our apartment. It felt like mere seconds went by before I found myself back in bed, gratefully sliding beneath the dark sheets, settling on my non-injured side. It was all wrong; I wanted to face the other way, towards Eric's side of the bed, but I couldn't thanks to the stitches.

Eric easily fixed the situation by lying on my side of the bed, his body turned towards mine. He brushed my hair back, frowning when he realized I was already on my way to falling asleep.

It wasn't that I wanted to.

For once, I was sick of sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes, I got to relive what happened; occasionally the dream changed, running alternate versions through my mind just to mess with me. It was a never-ending movie in which I watched myself get shot; sometimes Daniel got shot, too. There were other terrible versions where Eric didn't always show up at the hospital, where Blythe sometimes turned into Evelyn, and where sometimes I opened my eyes to realize I was completely and utterly alone.

It left me exhausted, far too exhausted for someone who had been doing nothing but sleeping.

But I must have needed it. Dealing with Blythe had left me reeling, and leaving the hospital on such a sour note hadn't made me feel any better.

My eyes slipped shut again with Eric's fingers lazily drifting through my hair, and I had given in willingly, hoping for a dreamless sleep.

 

After a few sleep-filled days, I decide to read the book Daniel gave me.

Not the one he'd probably prefer I read, though. I still have the stack of medical books with me, but instead I chose the one with gold lettering and a familiar name on the bottom.

I curl into the sheets, making myself as small as possible while Eric scowls from the doorway. He's paid close attention to me these past few days, grousing over what I've eaten or whenever I've stepped foot outside of our bedroom. I try to remind myself this stems from the worry he's still unwilling to express, and it helps me from politely telling him to go punch at something until he feels better.

I settle into his side of the bed, pulling the comforter up and over me, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. I let myself get lost in the pages, finding it easy to immerse myself in the book. The words serve to sooth the whirling feeling in my mind, as well as the permanent ache that now seems to reside in my chest. While I let my mind wander over all sorts of mythical and made up creatures, I try not to think about Daniel.

But it seems impossible.

There is a part of me, small and hopeful, that believed he'd call just to see how I'm doing. I thought if I stayed away from Arlene, never setting foot inside her infirmary, that maybe the absence of new information from her would be enough to prompt him to call.

But he hasn't.

I try to remember that this was my decision, and the only real solution possible, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. By the time I reach the end of the book, shutting it closed and gently setting it atop the other books he gave me, it feels more and more concrete that I'll never see him again. I bite at my lip as I decide to close my eyes and pretend that when I open them again, things will be different.

 

They aren't.

 

 

On Monday, the black threads start to irritate me.

I frown at the stitches in my side, knowing the same ones are also woven into the skin on my back, proving to be far itchier than I could ever have imagined. Eric told me they will eventually dissolve; there is no need to have them removed, and with the added bonus of whatever I was given to speed up healing, mine will vanish sooner than later. But as I stand here in the bathroom, staring at them in the mirror, I have the sudden urge to cut the tiny knots at the end and pull them all out.

It's stupid.

I know it would hurt, maybe even also causing some sort of trauma that would force me down to Arlene, but they're an ugly reminder of the past week. I force myself to look at something else, anything else. My hair, long and wet, tangling down over my shoulders in desperate need of a haircut. The way my eyes no longer look woefully exhausted, and instead look almost bright again. My bare shoulders and the hands that have appeared on them, slowly sliding down my arms until they catch my elbows.

"What are you doing?"

Eric murmurs the words in my ear, his nose nudging into my hair, and I lean back into him, a smile suddenly crossing my lips.

I try to focus on him, his hair wet and his skin nearly as bare as mine. Minutes ago, I'd stepped out of the shower before him after realizing that, even injured, I still had no self-control. He kissed me while I washed my hair, helping me brush the lush bubbles away from my eyes before he swatted me away from him, his leer telling me this was a single, rare occurrence. Had I not been injured, I'd be doing something far more exciting than standing here and examining myself.

Evelyn certainly deserves to be punished with death for this.

"I'm just looking at the stitches. When do you think they'll go away?" I take in the sight of him, his damp hair a shade darker, and I grin when he presses himself against my back, the towel around his waist brushing against my skin just below the dark threads.

"When they're healed."

His hands move lower, gliding smoothly until they find my hipbones beneath my pale underwear. He pulls me towards him, closing the mere centimeters between us, as one of his hands slides over to rest across my stomach.

"They itch," I tell him, and he smirks against my hair.

"They'd itch less if you were following doctor's orders. You're still supposed to be in bed, you know. Daniel said a week minimum before you were to be up and running around," Eric reminds me.

"I took a shower. That's hardly running around," I point out, and he ignores me in favor of nipping at the skin just below my ear, slowly enough that I find myself sighing in delight.

"You really should get back in bed, Amity."

I want to answer him, but I can't. I shiver lightly at the sound of his words, the feel of his mouth on my skin, the plushness of his lips trailing torturously down into the crook of my neck and shoulder. I push myself back into him, whimpering when he breaks away with a smirk.

"Now."

I scowl at him.

He takes a step back, smiling teasingly as I stand there, my arms crossed.

"That's not very nice," I sulk, but Eric simply shakes his head. He walks away, his eyes trailing over me once more, and he grins when he walks into our bedroom.

"I'll meet you there," he calls out, and I decide I'm not going to bother putting anything else on.

 

"Look how much he loves her."

Eric grunts in response, shifting us in annoyance.

"I like his hair," I tell him, rising up a bit to get a better look at the screen. After torturing me in the bathroom, Eric decided to make it up to me by very reluctantly letting me pick out a movie to watch. Much to his dismay, I chose what appeared to be a love story between a young girl and a man who sparkled in the sunlight. I'm watching with rapt, guilty fascination as the movie progresses, completely enthralled by their awkward love for each other.

So far, Eric has left no less than twenty times.

He found every excuse possible to get up: he needed his phone, he used the bathroom, he attempted to comb his hair, he wanted a snack, he wanted to bring me a snack, he needed to reorganize his shirts, Rylan needed something, he had to check if we were out of bananas... until eventually he ran out of things to do. And unfortunately for him, he now found himself pinned beneath me, half sitting on his lap, with one of my hands on his chest to hold him in place.

"Why can he fly?"

"For fuck's sake, Everly, I don't know. I've never actually watched this piece of shit." His too-loud defense tells me he has. He quickly grows cranky, resorting to scowling at me and attempting to move me off of him. While he'd normally be able to easily toss me aside, I now have the upper hand. I only bothered to wear a nightgown when I realized the bedroom is freezing, and he can't quite figure out where to place his hands over the soft material so he doesn't touch where my stitches are.

His hands flounder for a moment, frustration crossing his face even when I smile.

"Are you sure you've never seen this?" I raise my eyebrows at him, examining Eric's hair. It's longer again, and without an ounce of product in it, it has a mind of its own. I reach out to touch it, running my fingers through the strands and twisting a piece around my fingers, and I grin victoriously when his eyes start to slip shut. He allows himself this guilty pleasure for no more than a quick second before they flash open again.

"Never," he mutters. "Can we watch something else now?"

"No, I want to see what happens. And I did find this movie on your shelf," I point out. He closes his eyes, and I swear his lips move as he counts to ten.

"Bye, Amity." He manages to somehow stand up with me still on top of him, setting me down on the bed while he stalks away. He pauses in the doorway, throwing me a rather dirty look. "And it's not my movie."

"Sure it isn't," I call out, a little saddened by his departure as I hear him stomp towards the living room. When I realize he isn't coming back, I sigh and slump back against the pillows, turning my attention back to the sparkly fellow and his blinking girlfriend.

An hour later, I'm still sitting here, the blankets pulled up around me, curled into Eric's pillow. The movie has taken a dramatic turn, leaving me torn when the vampire refuses to turn his girlfriend into a vampire herself.

"Is it still on?" Eric reappears, his bare chest far more appealing than Mr. Sparkles as he saunters towards me. He eyes the screen nastily, then smiles when he realizes it's over as the picture darkens to nothingness. "Oh good, now promise me you'll never ask to watch the rest of them."

"There's more? How many?" I ask him, sitting up straighter. I'm starting to feel like a bit of a vampire myself; I've spent endless days in bed, endless days tangled in dark sheets and him. And while I'm not complaining, I'm beginning to go a bit stir crazy. "We can watch them later. I thought we could go down to the dining hall and get lunch."

Eric shakes his head, unimpressed with my idea. "You aren't even dressed," he points out, stopping at the foot of the bed. He lets his eyes rake over me, smirking at my pink nightgown. "That's hardly proper lunch attire."

"Eric," I emphasize his name, but just enough that his expression changes to amusement. "I'll change. We can get dressed right now."

He rolls his eyes in response. "Two more days of bed rest. You told Daniel you'd listen to him."

I throw the covers back, standing far more easily than a few days ago. I try to ignore the slice through my chest at Daniel's name. I remind myself I made the decision to make things easier for him. I removed myself and Eric so Blythe would leave him alone; while it feels stupid to think otherwise, I'm still clinging to the secret hope that someday I'll see him again.

"I did listen to him. But I'm bored. I need to do something, anything, other than lie around in bed all day."

Eric smirks. "I thought that would be your dream come true."

I contemplate smacking him, but he's too handsome for that. "Can we at least go visit someone? Or go get a haircut? Or just walk outside? We could go for a run. I could walk and you could run," I offer up several ideas, all of which are met with him shaking his head.

"Not on your life. Which, ironically, always seems to be on the line these days," he points out, and I can feel the scowl forming on my lips. "Tris will be here soon. She's bringing lunch. I only came back in here to tell you that." He doesn't look thrilled, but he doesn't look too unhappy, either. "She wanted to see you."

My mood brightens considerably. I smile widely as I walk over to him, reaching around his waist, until I'm against the warm skin of his chest. He responds immediately; he holds me in place, one hand cupping the back of my neck.

"Are you staying for lunch, too?" I ask, enjoying just how solid he feels, and the way he toys with my hair. There's something about standing here with him like this that makes the past few weeks slip away. It's almost like Evelyn's attack never happened, like we might head out of here and spend our afternoon training together.

"As fun as that sounds, no. I have a meeting with Max and Karl to attend."

I nod, his words bringing me right back down to Earth. I knew he would have to return to work eventually; he's taken off far longer than I thought he would, at least until he finally admitted that he'd assigned Karl to personally hunt down Evelyn. I'd been surprised, but he told me he had things in life that were more important than murder, and I knew he meant me.

"Maybe she'll still be here when you get back." I step closer to him, and I can feel him smile mockingly.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Everly."

I snort against him, knowing that while he doesn't utterly disapprove of her company, he certainly doesn't love the idea of her in his home, especially while he isn't here.

"I'm gonna get dressed," he murmurs, and I feel him kiss the top of my head. Much to my disappointment, that's all he kisses as he breaks away, heading off to pick out one of the blackest uniforms he can find.

 

Tris looks ecstatic to see me, and better yet, she's brought food that actually looks edible. She unpacks it onto the living room table, carefully setting down soups and sandwiches, a salad to share, and two drinks. She even brought napkins and spoons, and she smiles widely when she's done arranging it.

"I asked Quinten if he would make these for us. I told him it was for you and that you go shot, and he didn't seem to mind making something special," Tris informs me as she sits down on the couch. She looks happy and cheerful, and gone is the exhaustion I'd seen when she was working all those odd shifts in the control room.

"Quinten said to tell you hello, by the way." She glances around the apartment, mostly towards the bedroom door. "Is Eric still here?"

"He is," I answer, settling onto the couch opposite her.

For someone that has a meeting to attend, Eric is certainly dragging his feet. He got himself ready, then made coffee, then lingered in the bedroom on his laptop for a bit, typing away in annoyance. I didn't pay too much attention because I'd already gotten dressed. It felt wonderful to put real clothes on again, even if it was just a sundress and a sweater.

"He's going to a meeting with Max, so he can't stay for lunch," I offer up, noting that Tris looks a bit guilty.

"Well, good, because I didn't bring him lunch," she tells me, and I wave it off.

"I'm sure he'll grab something later," I tell her, pretty sure Eric will eat during his meeting. As though he heard her, he waltzes through the doorway, his face slipping into a pained expression for just a moment before he forces himself to politely smile at Tris.

"Hello," he greets her disinterestedly, walking over until he can sit down beside me. I bet that never in his life did he think she would be sitting in his apartment, waiting to eating lunch. He's sitting as close as possible, his thigh pressing against mine, and he eyes the food in front of us. "I see Quinten must have taken a cooking class."

I lean into him, bumping his shoulder with my own, ignoring the intense stare from my friend. She looks curious, as though she's never observed Eric in his natural habitat. But then again, I doubt she's had the chance.

"Are you leaving now?" I ask him. Part of me hopes he'll stay, but the other part knows it's time for him to take a break from taking care of me. There isn't anything he can do now besides make sure I stay in bed; all he can do is hover over me and stare.

Eric nods. "Right now, in fact. I just came to say goodbye and to make sure you're going to eat something."

"I will," I respond. The food Tris brought looks far better than anything I've seen in the past few days. I smile at him, reaching for his hand until I have his fingers between my own. I match our hands up, mine much smaller than his large one, pressing my palm to his before he folds his fingers over mine. "I'm actually hungry now."

"Good," he mutters, and then his eyes slide over to Tris. She ducks her head down, quickly averting her stare back to the food. "I'll see you in a few hours."

He lets go of my hand, and I watch him hesitate for the briefest of seconds before he leans over to kiss my temple. He then stands, smiling tightly, and I watch him walk away with his shoulders back, knowing full well that he doesn't really want to leave.

"That was interesting," Tris observes as the door shuts. She picks up her sandwich and neatly rearranges the bread. "Is he really mad you got shot? Four said he lost it when they told him. He'd just come back from searching for Evelyn after a reported sighting, and they were all in some meeting together when Karl came in and gave him the news."

"He was super mad I got shot," I reply, picking at my lunch. My appetite has been nonexistent since I woke up in the hospital, but today it seems better. I happily eat some soup, enjoying the fact that it tastes familiar.

She takes a bite of her sandwich, setting it back down gingerly. "Four said he's only seen Eric that angry one other time, and it was the last time someone had to tell him you were gone. Wasn't it Karl that told him about that, too?"

I nod my head and grimace. Poor Karl. "When I woke up, Eric looked furious. I feel bad for everyone involved in telling him — especially Karl."

Tris smiles in understanding. "Well, Justin was the one who called and spoke to Karl. Four said he and Kevin were scared to come back here. When Karl told him, I guess Eric threw the laptop he was working on at the wall. Scared the living daylights out of Kacie."

I pause with my spoon in the air. I had tried to imagine Eric receiving the news that I had been shot, and while I hadn't quite pictured a full-on tantrum, it did seem highly plausible. "He did not."

"He did. Four told me they had to force Eric to promise he wouldn't be there when Justin and Kevin returned. But it didn't matter, since he left to go to Erudite anyway."

"I don't think he's mad at them or Karl anymore. He blames himself for sending me," I offer up, and I notice Tris hasn't taken more than a single bite of her food. "Tris, are you okay? Did Eric throw something at you, too?"

She smiles slightly at my joke, then shakes her head. "I'm fine. I just need to tell you something, and I feel terrible that I haven't. Well actually, I haven't told anyone."

"Is everything okay with you and Four?" I ask her, and Tris nods. Her eyes lock on mine, and she swallows rather nervously.

"Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't really want to tell anyone other than you and Christina. But I haven't even said anything to her because I don't want the whole world to know, but…" She trails off, and I wait patiently for her to finish. It seems like hours pass before she finally smiles sheepishly. "I found out I'm pregnant."

I nearly drop my spoon at her news. That was the last thing I expected her to say, and I watch as her face brightens up considerably now that she's told me.

"Seriously? Congratulations!" I smile happily at her as my mind whirls with her announcement. I can tell she's relieved, like she's been carrying around this big secret for a while.

"I uh, I didn't know how to break the news. I mean, we haven't even gotten married yet." She looks guilt-ridden at the very thought, and I frown at her expression. Except for their one fairly brief breakup, she's been in some sort of relationship with Four since before I even decided to choose Dauntless; there is no reason for Tris to feel guilty about having a baby with the man she's marrying.

"So? You guys are about to get married," I point out, and she shrugs. I get the impression her discomfort is a remnant of something that's still lingering from her past. In Amity, this would be no big deal at all. It would just be one more thing to celebrate, making the wedding an even bigger party than originally planned.

But we aren't in Amity, and when I think about it, I don't even know how Dauntless handles babies and weddings.

"I'm beyond nervous about it. I wanted to say something sooner, but with everything going on, it never seemed like the right time."

Her words jerk me back to reality. She says them softly, and I get the feeling I am the first person other than Four who has heard this news. "I'm glad you told me."

She looks guilty again, and I watch her stare at her food. "I wanted to. I couldn't imagine telling Christina yet. It's not that I don't want her to know, but I don't know if I can handle her reaction or her desire to spread the news. I know you won't say anything."

"I won't," I promise, immediately wondering if I can tell Eric. But the look on her face tells me he's the last person she wants knowing about her private life. I can just imagine the disgust on his face if he heard that Four is having a child.

"We're moving up the wedding, too. I hope you and Eric will come. I know he probably won't want to, but I'd love it if you were there," Tris eats a few more bites and I stare at her carefully. She looks the same, except her shirt isn't quite as fitted as some of her other ones. She glances up, catching my strange stare, and smiles.

"We'd love to come. Well, I would," I tell her, excited at the idea of seeing Eric all dressed up again. I know he won't be thrilled about the idea, and he definitely won't want to agree to it, but I can think of a way of convincing him.

Tris snorts, "I doubt Eric would love to come, and I understand."

I perk up at her words. I'd love to attend her wedding, and it's not like Eric can say no to this. Well, I mean, he could. But I feel like this is something he won't completely object to.

"It's going to be small. We aren't inviting many people, and there's a dinner after," she continues on, her face flushing a little.

"Who else will you invite?" I ask her curiously, and she looks thoughtful.

"I was thinking Christina, and I'm sure she'll bring Rylan. You and Eric, maybe Tori…" She trails off again, and I get the feeling the decision to move up the wedding was very recent. "Four said he's going to invite Zeke and Shauna."

I nod, vaguely remembering who Zeke is. "I'll talk to Eric about it today."

Tris looks relieved. "Do you think he'll say yes?"

"I have my ways of getting him to agree," I tease, and she smiles knowingly. Then her face changes, reflecting horror when I shift to move my legs beneath me, holding my side for a split second.

"Everly, I'm so rude. I didn't even ask how you are. Are you feeling alright?" She takes a few more bites of her salad before she sets her fork down.

"I'm fine. They said I'll heal quickly and I can head back to work at the end of the week." I sound a bit wistful, never imagining there'd come a time when I would wish to go back to my office. But at this point, dealing with mountains of paperwork and reports sounds far more fun than sitting around at home.

"Good," Tris responds. "Eric looked awful when he left here to go to you in Erudite. We all thought the worst, just because…well, you know." She shrugs sheepishly, and I try hard not to think about Colton.

"I do have something I should tell you, though." I toy with my soup, letting it spill off my spoon and back into the bowl. I figure I might as well use this opportunity to tell her my news. Since Eric has been relatively silent about the baby, I need to tell someone.

"Everly, everything's okay, right?" Tris asks worriedly. "I wanted to come by the day you came back, but Eric refused to let anyone come near you. Four and I tried to stop by earlier, and he said you were sleeping and to come back in a week."

I roll my eyes. I probably was sleeping, but there is little doubt in my mind that Eric would have told them to go away even if I had been awake.

"Everything's fine. After I got shot, they had to perform an operation to remove the bullet. But before they did that, they ran a few other tests."

"What kind of tests?" Tris looks concerned now, her whole face tensing up. "Everly, are you sick? Is it left over from that serum?"

"No, I'm not sick. It's just… well... it turns out that I'm pregnant, too." I smile, hoping I'm not ruining Tris's news. But her face lights up, and the next thing I know she has moved to the couch to hug me, nearly suffocating me. It takes me by surprise; she's the least physically affectionate of my friends, but she seems truly enthused right now. For a minute the two of us sit there, crammed together, until she backs off just enough that I can breathe.

"Sorry," she apologizes, looking a little mortified by her reaction. "But I'm so happy for you. And I'm so happy that you're pregnant at the same time as I am," Tris says the words enthusiastically, and I know she means them. She looks even more relieved now that someone will be sharing the same experience as her.

"I'm glad, too. But wait," I turn to stare at her. "Before I left, Christina said she wanted to tell us something. Is she..." I trail off, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Ha! Not a chance. She moved in with Rylan. She told me this morning, otherwise I still wouldn't know." Tris shrugs and pokes at her salad.

"That's still exciting," I answer. I've never been to Rylan's apartment, but I imagine it's as nice as Eric's. "When did that happen?"

"I think it was right before you went to Erudite. She's been busy, though. She's been helping Rylan organize a few things. We had breakfast this morning, and she was so distracted by whatever he was working on that she barely told me she'd moved."

"I hope I see her soon. I want to tell her, too."

"She might suspect it," Tris offers, taking a sip of her drink. "We both thought you seemed sort of spacey the other day, and Four mentioned that you didn't seem to be feeling well during one of the meetings."

"I actually had no idea," I confess, and I feel slightly embarrassed, like maybe I should have. "I mean, I just thought I was run down from work."

"It's alright. I didn't know either."

I feel better at her words. I watch her set her drink down, glancing back at the bedroom door. She squints at it, then back at me.

"So, uh, how's Eric taking it?" she asks. "Is he excited?"

I lean back into the couch, and I shrug. "Actually, he hasn't talked about the baby at all. In the hospital, he was furious that something could have happened while I was in surgery. And since we've been home, he mostly makes sure I'm staying in bed or that I haven't left to go run laps or something."

Tris nods. "But he hasn't said anything?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I don't think he knows what to say."

I watch her settle back, thoughtfully moving her salad around on her plate before she smiles widely, as though she finds something very funny. "Everly, do you think he's nervous over the idea? And that's why he's been quiet? Maybe he never thought he'd actually become someone's father."

I stare back at her, letting her words sink in.

"I mean, I wonder if he ever really believed it would come true."

Holy shit.

Maybe she's right.

Maybe this is the reason for his suspicious lack of commentary on anything baby-related. Well, he did acknowledge the baby, and I know he kept quiet in the hospital because he was distracted by other things. But maybe his silence now is because he's unsure about his wish coming true; there is something mildly terrifying about getting what you've always wanted. Even for Eric.

"I think you're right," I tell her. "I think he doesn't quite believe it."

Tris smiles again and nods her head. "Funny, no one ever knew what Eric was afraid of. Four mentioned that Eric had twelve fears during his initial landscape, but who knew that having a normal life would be one of them?"

 

Tris leaves far sooner than I'd like her to.

She helps me clean up our lunch, and before I know it, she's hugging me goodbye, telling me she's heading in to work for a few hours. I wish she could stay longer, but I understand. I just can't help but feel like I'm the only one in Dauntless not doing anything productive.

When the door shuts, I realize I am completely and utterly alone for the first time in a week. The silence in the apartment seems louder than ever, almost shrill in my ears. I would have thought the feeling would be amazing; there is no one here to take my temperature, to check my blood pressure, or to instruct me to eat anything. But the thought of curling up on the couch or heading back to bed makes me want to claw my eyes out. I decide there's only one thing I want to do now, so I grab a sweater and my keycard and head out the door before I change my mind.

 

Of course, Eric does not look impressed when I step into his office.

It felt glorious to walk through the hallways of Dauntless by myself. I let my fingers trail over the rocky walls, the jagged edges surprisingly comforting as I made my way to the elevators. I lingered as I went along, enjoying the dim lighting that seemed to flicker every once in a while, the low hum from the machinery quietly echoing, and the excitement that rushed through me as I pushed the call button for the elevator.

I must have been losing my mind if I found this exciting.

Before I knew it, I was brightly greeting Linda, slipping past her to knock on Eric's door. He answered quickly, barking 'what' as I stepped across the threshold. He glanced up at me, his eyes raking over my sundress and sweater, then down to the ballet flats on my feet, before he made the same sort of face he did when I first asked him why I couldn't have any cake.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

He says the words tightly, leaning away from his desk to stare at me. The piercing over his eyebrow glints as he cocks his head to the side, the skin pulled taut in annoyance. "You told me you'd—"

"I'm fine. Seriously, I feel the best I've felt all week," I interrupt him cheerfully. I walk around his desk, ignoring his dark gaze, and stop right in front of him. His legs are open wide enough for me to step between them, and I move to sit down on his lap, noting the way he's sort of relaxed now, despite the annoyed expression on his face. "Tris just left, and I wanted to come see you for a minute."

He gives in without protest; he pulls me back carefully, letting me settle against his chest. I quickly scan his desk. Along with his laptop, there are papers spread out over it — maps and schedules, a copy of the armory inventory, and a few papers from the hospital. I realize he must have the folder Daniel gave us; I spy a few instructions listed and the test results highlighted and initialed. Beside it, a stack of books is neatly arranged, including one entitled Tactical Planning which sits atop a few others facing the other direction.

"You missed me, Amity?" he teases me, his arms wrapping around my waist to press me against him. I can feel his chin on my shoulder, and he inhales sharply. "Do you really feel better?"

I nod, staring at his desk. I can see Karl's name circled multiple times, along with Justin's and Kevin's. My heart skips a beat, and I wonder where they are. But I refocus on why I came here and settle myself against him. "I feel way better. It didn't hurt at all when I walked here."

"Good," Eric answers, tightening his arms around me. "I'm glad to hear that." He murmurs the words in my ear, his lips moving to graze my cheek. I wait until he's still before I reach one hand up and around his head, into his hair.

"How late are you working?" I ask him, enjoying the way his mouth has moved down to my neck. For a moment his office is silent, aside from the sound of his mouth on my skin.

I'm comfortably resting on his lap, enjoying the warmth and closeness of him. "Did you want me to come home with you?"

I nod, my chest suddenly feeling tight and my heart squeezing painfully. I can't quite explain why I want him home with me, but I do. Maybe it's the paperwork in front of him, the all-too-real battle plans laid out in black and white, or maybe it's Karl's name, circled repeatedly, as though something is weighing on Eric's mind. Whatever it is, I just want him by me, and I don't want to sit in his office all afternoon.

"Whenever you're ready. I know you have work to do. I can go home and start dinner," I tell him quietly.

I can feel him smile, and he shakes his head slightly. "I can come home whenever I want. Don't you worry about dinner. I still think you should be in bed."

"Okay." I eventually cave in, pleased when his mouth returns to its previous position, and I sigh against him.

 

A few hours later, Eric returns home to make dinner for me.

I sit on the counter beside the stove, helping out by handing him whatever spices he asks for. I watch him intently, fearing that someday I'll have to recreate what he's making. He works methodically, easily slicing and dicing, but I still flinch every time he comes close to his fingers.

"Hand me that one." He points to the oregano with the exceedingly sharp knife, his grey eyes slipping over me and to the pile of spices that I'd dug out. I hand it to him, letting my fingers touch his longer than necessary, sort of curling into his skin, and he smirks at my prolonged contact.

"You hungry, Amity?"

"Actually, I'm starving," I tell him, watching him stir everything together. It smells delicious, and I suddenly wonder who taught him to cook.

"Good." He eyes me curiously before he points to the other seasoning behind the oregano. It looks fresh — something leafy and green — and I would bet it came from Amity.

"Hand me that one."

I watch him intently, wondering at what point in his life he decided he wanted to learn to cook. Was it something he'd always known how to do? Or something born out of necessity? I let myself daydream for a minute, wondering if maybe Daniel taught him. He'd spoken very little of his childhood with him, and I try to picture a smaller version of Eric watching his father cook dinner.

It makes my chest hurt again, and when I look up I realize Eric is staring at me.

"How do you know how to cook? Did Daniel show you how to make this?" I ask him carefully. The dish looks complicated, something that people in Erudite would take great pride in creating. Complex, fancy dishes that are designed more for presentation than for eating. Except that I know Eric can actually cook.

With the mention of his father, his good mood vanishes. Eric throws me a withering glare, and I close my mouth instantly.

"Daniel has never so much as washed a dish, let alone cooked an entire meal." Eric says the words with disdain. "I taught myself to cook. It's easy enough if you follow the directions. Anyone can do it."

"Oh," I answer, averting my stare to across the kitchen. I think back to the time I attempted to make him and his father dinner and it wasn't quite an amazing success. Growing up in Amity, it would seem natural that I'd know a thing or two about cooking. My mother spent a lot of her free time in the kitchen, but I couldn't be bothered to help her. I spent all my time outside, never bothering to pick up on anything she was doing. I'm starting to wish I'd paid more attention.

I must look a little glum at the thought, because Eric smacks my knee and smiles, one of his rare, relaxed grins.

"Don't worry about it, Amity. You've got other skills," he teases. He sets the knife down and steps in between my legs. His eyes lock in on mine, intensely enough that I can't look away.

"Thanks," I tell him, trying hard to not seem nervous, considering I've been married to him for some time now. Even though I've just spent days lying in bed with him, he still makes my heart beat wildly. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks the longer he stares at me, my body perched on the very same countertop where he first kissed me.

"And you're pretty, too," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss me soundly until the timer on the stove beeps. He breaks apart from me reluctantly, desire warm and heavy on his face, and he returns to making our fancy dinner.

For a few minutes he works silently, intently focused on the food in front of him. I catch him watching me out of the corner of his eye a few times, his lips turning up nearly every time.

"Eric." I say his name hesitantly, and he picks up on my tone right away.

"You okay over there?" He cocks an eyebrow at me from the stove, still stirring. "Are you feeling alright?"

I nod, taking a deep breath in through my nose. "I'm fine. But can I ask you something?"

He eyes me suspiciously, but he nods his head.

"Eric, are you happy we're having a baby?"

I watch as his head snaps to me, his gaze serious as ever. His lips part as though he's about to say something, and then he closes his mouth shut. My heart drops like a rock, all of my nerve vanishing with it. I drop my gaze to my shoes, trying to keep my thoughts straight.

"I just…" I fumble for a moment, then I look back up at him. "It's just you haven't said much about it."

He nods, swallowing a few times before he steps away from the stove. He walks over to me, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I know we talked about it. But I was thinking the timing is sort of…" I stop before I say the word awful, because I don't really feel that way. Finding out I was pregnant right in the middle of getting shot wasn't ideal, but I still wouldn't change it.

"Everly." He says my name lowly, and he rests his palms on my thighs. I lock eyes with him, unable to tear my gaze away from him. One of his hands rises up to push my hair back behind my ear, and he stares at me. "I know I haven't said it yet, but I am happy. I'm very happy you and our baby are alright."

With his words, I forget about the stove and the dinner. My heart tightens at the look on his face, the way his lips have turned up, and he leans in until his nose touches mine.

Then he kisses me, forcefully and desperately.

 

I wait until bedtime to bring up the wedding, having concluded that it would be wise to put it off until he wasn't expecting me to ask him anything else. I decide it's time to say something when he starts to undress for bed. I take in his large frame, the way he stands there, stretching his shoulders out. I somehow work up enough to courage to make myself sound casual, like I haven't been rehearsing this over and over in my mind.

"Tris invited us to her wedding today," I announce, watching him stand at the end of the bed. He stops for a moment, a confused look appearing on his face before it settles into a blank expression.

"Great." He shrugs, and his fingers move to undo the first button on his shirt. "Did you tell her we're busy?"

I ignore his immediate dismissal.

"No, I told her I'd talk to you about going." I say the words very carefully, settling back on my knees. I wait for him to throw out some sort of callous remark or make some sort of comment on Four and Tris actually getting married. But he doesn't. In fact, he doesn't say anything. He sort of grunts his disapproval and I fidget, smoothing out the blanket beside me.

"There's a dinner afterwards," I continue on, already aware this conversation is crashing and burning.

He says nothing. Eventually, the silence becomes too much, and I glance back up at him.

"We can go, right?" I ask him, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed.

I watch Eric cock an eyebrow at me as a look of disgust crosses his face.

"Absolutely not," he casually tosses out, pulling his button-down shirt off. "Besides, I'm busy until the end of the year."

"You are not," I tell him, scowling from the bed. I watch him smirk, especially when he eyes my nightgown. He stares intently before pulling at the collar of his dark undershirt. "I saw your schedule, Eric. You have plenty of free time."

"I've made some appointments," he mutters, turning to face me, shirtless and annoyed, placing both hands on his hips.

I knew going in that this wasn't going to be an easy conversation. While Eric has made major strides in curbing his hatred of Four, asking him to attend his wedding isn't going to go down easily. I figured I would just be direct with him; I waited until he had eaten, I dressed myself for bed — managing to find something flimsy and pink that I know he likes — and I sat on his side of the bed and waited until he seemed receptive.

My plan was working. He happily ate dinner with me, and I was well aware of his interested stare when he watched me undress to put my nightgown on. His eyes lingered on the almost nonexistent straps with a dark, lusty expression. And while I knew I probably had a better chance of convincing him to stand up as Four's best man than I did of making anything happen in bed tonight, I still wanted his defenses lowered.

And they had been.

Until I opened my mouth.

"She's my friend, you know," I reason, watching the way he fumbles as he undoes his belt. "I'd like to be there for her."

"I'm aware of that," he snaps and I stare right at him. "But I think we have other things to focus on. Like making sure you and our baby are fine, not watching Four make an idiot of himself." With that he gives me a look sharp enough to cut glass.

My face falls, and I sink back against the pillows as disappointment washes over me.

Eric cocks his head at me, observing my defeated posture. "It's for the best," he says shortly, kicking his pants to the side. "I don't have time to sit through such a pointless event. It's not even smart for those two idiots to decide to have a wedding right now. We're right at the height of the hunt for Evelyn. It's not exactly the time to be worried about hosting some stupid party."

"It's their wedding. And it's not for a few more weeks. We might find her by then."

"We haven't found her now, therefore we aren't going," Eric says the words irritably.

I nod dejectedly, and my fingers toy with the edge of my nightgown. I feel stupid for having asked, and I suddenly want to rip apart the fabric until it's in a million pieces.

"Everly," Eric says my name sharply, noticing I'm not looking at him. "I'm not just saying this to be a dick, but there is no way in hell I will attend Four's wedding. Ever."

After a long moment of silence, I nod again. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you'd like to go with me."

My words are woefully unconvincing. To make it even worse, my voice wavers, making me sound weepy and immature. There is a burning rush of embarrassment, and I try to push it down by pressing my palms into my eyes.

"Everly." Eric says my name again, but this time his tone has changed. He sounds less annoyed and much more uneasy. "Everly, are you crying?"

There is a speck of confusion twisted into his words, and I shake my head. I'm not crying, but I do feel utterly crushed. I want to attend Tris's wedding, badly. I want to watch her marry Four, and I want to sit beside Eric, wearing something pretty while he wears something that makes him look even more handsome.

But I understand.

There are huge concerns when it comes to Evelyn.

I've been out of the loop since returning from Erudite, and Eric hasn't exactly filled me in on all the details. His exact words were 'It's under control', spoken in a firm tone that told me not to push the issue. I haven't really minded too much; he doesn't want me to worry, and I got to spend days in bed with Eric. But now, being uninformed is making me feel fairly dumb.

"I'm not crying," I answer, and I let my hands fall to my thighs. "I just want to go. It's not fair that Evelyn seems to worm her way into every aspect of my life. I want to see Tris and Four get married."

Eric's mouth presses into a tight line, and he narrows his eyes at me.

"Well, I don't," he retorts, indignant as ever. "Some of us have actual work to do around here," he reminds me, and I sigh without looking at him.

"Alright," I give in, watching my brilliant plan vanish right before my eyes. "Sorry I asked."

I can't help but feel annoyed at him; not just because he is overly concerned, but because I can't deny that he has the right to not like Four. I can't force them to get along, and I can't force Eric to want to go.

But it still feels crappy.

"I don't know what else you want me to say," he presses on, clearly uncomfortable. He stares at me with a dark expression, one that would normally make me try to soothe this whole thing over. But for once, I don't have anything else I want him to say.

So I untangle myself from my position and climb into bed, slipping between the covers. I ignore my husband standing there, shirtless and pantsless, staring at me with a funny look on his face when I don't respond.

 

We eat breakfast with Rylan and Jason.

The two of them stare at me, wide-eyed and solemn, as they shovel cereal into their mouths in unison. For some reason, I get great amusement out of their discomfort. It's the first time I've seen them since I've come back, and they both keep staring at me like they are looking for some sort of clue.

They both should know that I'm fine and that there is nothing they need to worry about; I feel better than ever. My side and back no longer hurt, and while my chest feels sore, I know that's simply a result of everything that's been going on for the last few weeks.

I chew on my toast while I watch them watching me. After a few minutes of this staring contest, Rylan finally breaks the silence. He swallows down a spoonful of marshmallow bits before subtly trying to bring up the wedding.

"So, uh, you two, uh, I'm sure you've heard about Four and Tris?" He steals a quick look at Eric, then back at me. "They, uh, invited Christina and me."

"We did," Eric answers shortly, and he takes a bite of his toast with far too much enthusiasm. He's been silent this whole breakfast, and eating seems to be his main focus.

"Are you guys going?" Jason asks, clearly missing the memo that Eric isn't too happy about the idea. "No one invited me, but maybe my invitation got lost."

Eric rolls his eyes. "You can have my invite. Because no, we are not going."

Rylan shakes his head as a knowing look crosses his face. "You guys should go. I think it would mean a lot to Tris—"

"Well then, by all means, I guess we have to go. We wouldn't want to upset Tris," Eric interrupts, his voice dripping with contempt, and I kick him under the table.

"I'd like to go. But Eric says everyone is too busy," I tell them, slicing apart my eggs. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Eric's eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything. He resumes angrily eating his breakfast, probably pretending he's biting off Four's head.

"Well, we are all really busy," Rylan points out, and he shrugs. "But we've also been in a period of relatively low activity lately. The last sighting of Evelyn was—"

"Erudite." Eric swallows with great annoyance. "She's got men everywhere."

Rylan visibly deflates, and I feel for him. I want to tell him I appreciate his effort, and that as much as I would love for the four of us to go together, Eric seems determined that we will not be attending this wedding.

"I just thought we could all go together," Rylan offers, trying to sound casual. "It'll be kind of fun."

"Hardly my idea of fun," Eric snaps.

"You really aren't going to go at all?" Jason turns to ask Eric, and I watch as he re-butters the side of his toast with great interest. "Aren't Everly and Tris, like, good friends? That would be shitty to miss out on your friend's wedding just because of work."

I swear the muscle in Eric's jaw twitches. "It'll also be shitty when Evelyn and her army show up here to open fire on all of us."

Jason rolls his eyes. He then looks over to me, noticing I'm still quiet, and makes a face at me. "She's smart enough to not come near you now. Not after what you did to her henchmen."

This is news to me.

I glance at him curiously, but he ignores me.

"Everly, you're awfully quiet. Don't you want to go?" Jason pries on, ignoring Eric, who is doing his best to ignore all of us.

I duck my head, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Eric is well aware of my feelings about the wedding, and announcing them over breakfast isn't going to make things any better. I try to stall by chewing my eggs as long as possible, and then I glance back at Jason.

"I'd like to go. But I know there are other things to focus on." I hope the words sound believable, but I know they don't.

I can feel Eric staring at me now, every fiber of his being tight with something: annoyance, worry, or perhaps anger over this discussion. So I try to deflect the question, and I smile at Eric.

"Hey, whatever happened to Britney? Did she ever make it out of the infirmary?"

My question works. Jason's eyes light up as he almost immediately forgets about the wedding; he then launches into a discussion about how Britney stormed into Max's office and loudly announced her resignation. I watch as Eric relaxes slightly, noticeable only to me. He seems fine with the change in conversation until he stands up suddenly, his eyes focused on the line to get coffee.

"I'll be right back," he announces, then marches off without looking at any of us.

Rylan shoots me a look I can't read and apologizes.

"I'm sorry, Everly. Christina told me there was no way in hell Eric would attend Four's wedding. She really wants you to be there, though, so I thought I'd try to help you out. I don't think it's because he's busy; I think he's just angry at everyone and Four is an easy target right now."

"I know." I nod at him, pushing my eggs around my plate. "It's alright. I appreciate your trying to help. But he's made up his mind we aren't going."

Rylan frowns.

"I'm thinking you could trick him into going," Jason offers up. "I mean, I don't personally want to watch Four get married, but maybe if there were enough people going Eric would chill. He's just edgy since you almost died for, like, the ninth time since you've been here."

I glare at him, and take a long drink of my orange juice. "Very funny. And I didn't almost die. I was perfectly fine."

"Right," Jason agrees mockingly, but there's no ill intent behind his words. "So fine you were in the hospital forever." He looks thoughtful suddenly, like he's just realized something. "Why were you there so long? Eric said the surgery was quick, but I swear you didn't come home for, like, two weeks."

I set my fork down and shrug. "Couldn't tell you. Doctor's orders."

Both Rylan and Jason look suspicious, and it dawns on me that Eric hasn't told them anything about the baby yet. I like the idea of keeping it mostly between us for now, and I'm betting Eric does, too.

"Everly…" Rylan doesn't get a chance to ask me anything else. Eric returns with his coffee in hand, followed by Max, Karl, and a pissed-looking Harrison.

"I'm guessing our breakfast time is over," Jason announces when he catches sight of them, and he and Rylan stand up. "Everly, it was nice dining with you. I'm glad you're still alive, because no one else knows how to start the backup generators except for you."

Rylan glares at him menacingly, then rolls his eyes as he turns to me. "We'll see you around, Everly."

Max must suddenly realize I'm sitting there, because he nods a hello at me, his eyes lingering for a moment before snapping back to the men behind him. "My office. Five minutes, gentlemen."

Everyone nods except for Eric. His stare is fixed on me, and he breaks it away when Karl asks him something. The two of them talk for a moment, something quiet that I can't hear, but Eric looks calm and composed when he turns back around.

"I'll see you at home. Later tonight," he says tightly, and I'm relieved I'm not being asked to attend this meeting.

Not a single one of them look very happy.

 

I go to bed without him.

Hours have passed since he said he'd be home, and it seems he's still in his meeting. I don't know what it's about, or why they needed to have one so suddenly, but I'm glad I'm not there. He called me once around five, grouchily telling me to eat without him and that he'd see me soon.

But he hasn't come back and I haven't heard from him, so I decide I might as well go to sleep.

It feels strange and weird, and I dislike the uncomfortable feeling. I've never been one to be afraid of the dark, but suddenly our bedroom is too cold and too shadowy, and there are too many weird corners for my imagination to toy with.

I bury myself into Eric's pillow, trying to trick myself into believing he's here, like maybe he's just off brushing his teeth or something.

It works.

I fall asleep before I know it.

 

"Everly."

I push my face further into the pillow, ignoring Eric's voice in my ear. It's much too early and I'm still much too sleepy to wake up.

"Everly."

I hear him say it more forcefully, his tone filled with exasperation.

I ignore him again.

"I know you can hear me." He sounds threatening now, and it makes me flash back to the days when he used to wake me up to train. I didn't want to respond then, and I don't want to respond now. So I keep my eyes shut as he makes a sound of frustration, eventually resorting to growling something at me.

"Everly Coulter, wake up."

Well, that's new.

I open my eyes to the sight of him standing beside me, and blink a few times in the bright lighting. He has nothing on but a pair of boxer briefs, and I mostly get an eyeful of his thighs.

"Yes?" I sit up, not caring that my hair is a mess. I squint up at him, taking in his intense expression. His inked arms are folded across his chest, and the muscles in his forearms look tight. "Is everything okay, Eric?"

I wait for him to tell me something terrible, like something has happened to Karl, or maybe Tris got cold feet and left Four after deciding she's never getting married.

But Eric doesn't answer right away. He stares down at me, his expression unreadable, before he averts his stare.

"We can go."

"Go where?" I ask, still half asleep. I vaguely remember him talking about venturing out of the apartment today. I swore he said we'd go to breakfast, or maybe lunch. "To eat? What time is it?"

Eric sighs in exasperation. "It's 1:15."

"In the morning?"

"In the afternoon. I didn't wake you up because you refused to wake up. You told me to get lost," he informs me, and he finally uncrosses his arms.

"That doesn't sound like me." I sound defensive, and Eric snorts.

"Funny." He takes a deep breath, and I watch as he takes a step closer to the bed. "And I changed my mind. We're going to the Stiffs' wedding."

I blink up at him, a slow smile spreading over my face now.

"Really?"

He nods, a look of utter regret on his features, but he still nods.

"I had Karl assign a few extra patrol squads while I'm away. They'll keep me alerted in the event of anything happening."

I'm fully awake now. I leap up at him, my arms reaching to wrap around his neck, nearly knocking him off balance. "You promise we'll go?"

I hold on tightly, until his arms reach around to pick me up and I can wrap my legs around his waist. For a moment he just looks at me, his stormy grey eyes locked on my own, staring so intently I almost cave in and look away. But when his lips quirk up a hair, I know I've won.

"I promise."

He says the words firmly; his gaze softens and his head leans in to touch mine. "But at the first sign of anything, and I mean anything, we're both leaving."

"Thank you," I tell him, still holding onto him as tightly as possible.

He pauses to stare for a second, before he smirks. "You know this goes against my better judgment, right?"

I nod, grinning widely until my cheeks hurt.

"What made you change your mind?" I ask, but he cuts me off by pressing his lips to my own. I wish he would toss me back on the bed, crawling on top of me or pulling my nightgown off. At the very least, I wish he'd keep kissing me. But instead, he breaks away and rests his forehead back against mine.

He then swallows and shuts his eyes.

"Last night you looked… you looked like I'd ruined your entire life."

He says the words tightly. I use the time to stare at him, memorizing every long eyelash until he speaks again. "I don't want you to look at me like that."

He opens his eyes and stares back at me, discomfort oozing from him, and I realize that for once, Eric doesn't have the upper hand. He's never compromised before, never given in to anyone else's wishes just to make someone happy.

And yet, he just did.

So this time I press my lips to his, just brief enough for him to tighten his grip in my knotted hair, and I tell him that I love him. I want to tell him over and over, to show him again and again just what he means to me. I whisper thank you, knowing full well he doesn't really want to sit through this wedding.

But I don't have to.

He tells me he loves me, the words quietly slipping from his lips as he gently sets me back down on the bed. I tug on his hand for him to join me, and he laughs as he shakes his head.

"Get up and get dressed. We're going to lunch now that you've decided to grace the world with your presence."

And just like that, my entire world shifts back to normal.

 

Eric and I walk to our lunch together, his fingers brushing against mine every so often. I reach for his hand, pressing my palm to his, smiling when his fingers slide between mine. I don't look at him; I keep my gaze forward on the dark hallway before me, but I know he's smirking.

We turn the corner, the hallways seeming to cool as we press further into the compound. I'm glad I wore a sweater, and I step closer to Eric until my arm brushes up against his; I swear I can feel something rush between us in that moment.

The next thing I know, he's backed me up against the smoothest part of the wall; his hands are around my waist and his lips are against my own. He kisses me furiously, pushing me back until he's completely against me. His fingers grip the bottom of my dress, shoving it up so his hands can slide underneath. I feel them against the backs of my thighs, strong hands pulling me against him, and I groan when he breaks away, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"Why'd you stop?" I swallow, trying to slow down my own rapid breathing as he grins darkly and raises his eyes to the top of the wall. I glance up, catching sight of the smallest red dot blinking in the dark. Eric looks devilishly delighted, his smirk growing wide.

"Your best friend is working right now. I figured you'd probably want the first time he sees you since you came back to be in person, rather than on camera."


	52. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much to everyone who has followed and reviewed this story. I appreciate every single one of you!
> 
> Thank you so much to Felyneve for being an amazing sounding board, for helping me learn how to not split words into two to create my own versions of them, and for helping me physically see the errors right before my own horrified eyes. 
> 
> Thank you SO much to BK2U for your editing skills, for keeping the timing straight on nearly every chapter, and for making sure Four does not venture back to his own planet. 
> 
> This chapter is better because of you guys!

Eric's arm is heavy, draped over my side to hold me back against his chest. I lie there quietly, enjoying the feel of him behind me. In the dark, he is as solid as ever, his chest hot against my back, his hand resting over my abdomen, fingers splayed apart even in his sleep. I listen to him breathe, slow and steady, as he drifts off after a long day. I'm surprised when he shifts, slipping his leg further between mine, curling himself around me.

"We keep this quiet for now, okay?"

He murmurs the words into my hair, his fingers flexing gently, protectively, over the expanse between my hips. I nod in agreement, letting myself sink back into him.

He holds onto me even tighter.

 

The light flashes green.

The doors unlock with a beep, and I slip through them, keeping as silent as the room I've walked into. The room is slightly darker than normal, the lights dimmed to conserve energy, and the air is cold. I head past a few rows of desks, littered with all kinds of papers and maps, and I make my way towards my target.

I found myself walking towards the control room sometime after eleven. For once in my life, I couldn't sleep. Not even the warmth of Eric, nor the heavy sound of his heartbeat, could lull me to sleep. So I slipped out of his bed, untangling my limbs from his and scrawling a quick note for him — knowing it would do little to ease his worry, but it was something — and went for a walk.

I've recently come to find Dauntless at night to be sort of soothing; it's chilly and dark, and never totally silent. I navigated twisting hallways, slipping down a few flights of stairs, guided only by the low lighting. The stairwells were creaky and the hallways were ghosted with the sound of imagined wind. Everything was winding and endless, a comforting maze that I've grown to appreciate.

I ended up right where I wanted to be — in front of the control room.

I didn't hesitate to swipe my keycard, for I knew what I would find inside: glittering computer monitors and only a few, scattered people working the night shift. I walked here in hopes of seeing a familiar face. I knew that Kacie rarely worked at night, even in such crucial times, but that Four did.

I spot him, his eyes glued to a computer, his head down while he scrawls something in a notebook. The closer I get to him, the more I can make out what he's writing. Despite his messy handwriting, I can see he's jotting down coordinates to something, his brow furrowed in concentration.

He looks up, surprised when I first sit down beside him, glancing curiously at my outfit. I'd grabbed a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, the first pair of shoes I could find, and hadn't bothered to fix my hair before leaving the apartment.

I silently watch him back for a few minutes, and when he realizes I really am staying, he sits back in his chair to glance at the screen in front of me.

"Isn't it well past your bedtime?" Four asks as he presses a button on the screen in front of him, causing the view to back out of its zoomed-in perspective. I notice the feed is blurry as it pulls back, still not totally focused.

"I couldn't sleep," I answer him, making myself comfortable in here. It's colder than I remembered, and my pajama shorts do little to keep me warm. He toys with the camera again, and it whirls around dizzyingly.

"I see," he answers. He finally stops messing with the computer, happy when the monitor shows the entrance to Dauntless. He doesn't write anything else down, in fact, he closes the notebook he'd been writing in as if he doesn't want me to see it.

"Are you excited?" I ask quietly. I balance myself to sit on one leg before grinning up at him. Four looks over at me, and he toys with the edges of the papers.

"About?" He raises an eyebrow at me. "What are you doing here, Everly? Did Eric send you down here, or could you really not sleep?"

His suspicion confuses me, but I shrug it off.

"No, Eric did not send me down here. I came by to visit. I was hoping you were working," I answer him cheerfully, scooting my chair closer to the desk. I want to know why he's looking at this particular screen, but I won't ask him just yet.

He eyes me carefully before he sighs and points to the monitor directly in front of me. "Click on that one over there since you really aren't leaving."

"I'm just staying for a minute," I tell him. "I wanted to come say hello. I haven't seen you since I've been back."

Four looks at me as though I've lost my mind, but he shrugs his shoulders. "Welcome back. Tris told me you were doing well."

At the mention of Tris, I realize he still hasn't answered my question. I sit up straighter in my chair, resisting the urge to kick him gently. "So, are you excited?"

"About?" he asks again, distractedly, and I have the urge to turn all of the computers off. Whatever he's working on, it's clear I've interrupted him.

"Your wedding," I remind him, "Are you excited to be getting married?" I finally click on the screen he wants, noticing the way it lights up green, returning it to night vision mode. I really want to ask him how he feels about the baby, but I swore to Tris I'd keep quiet.

Judging by the look on his face, I can tell he assumes I'm not really talking about the wedding. He finally smiles, even though he's still looking at the green screen.

"Four," I say his name, and he finally jerks his gaze away from the computer.

"Sure," he answers breezily. "It'll be nice to be married."

"Sure," I repeat, staring at him, knowing he's full of shit. "It'll be nice? That's it? After everything that's happened, it'll be nice?"

He finally grins, snickering at the look on my face. "I forgot about your persistent questioning. And yes, Everly, I'm counting down the days. After all of the crap that's been going on, it's the only thing I really want to focus on."

"Good." For a moment, I wondered if maybe he wasn't excited, but I couldn't really see how that would be possible. "Tris seems really happy, by the way."

"I'm glad. And I'm glad she went to visit you. She was worried something happened when you didn't come right back that same day. Like, maybe something was wrong." Four gives me a knowing look that tells me he probably knows about the baby, but I return his shrug from earlier.

"I got shot and had to have surgery. They made me stay a few days to recover. Nothing too exciting." I make my voice sound just like his did, and he rolls his eyes.

"So you just got shot and nothing exciting happened," he reiterates, raising an eyebrow at me. "I mean, Eric seemed awfully worked up over a gunshot wound."

"We all know he can be dramatic." I shrug again, and for a moment we both sit there, staring at each other in silence. He finally clears his throat, and I watch as he struggles to say something. I decide to help him out, knowing he'll keep our discussion between us.

"Fine, Eric and I are having a baby."

"Tris is pregnant."

We both say it at the same time, and then sit there until we both grin. I knew it wouldn't take long to get him to break the news. In this moment, it feels like I'm back teaching a class with him, and I relish in the feeling of seeing him look cheerful again.

"Congratulations," I tell him, and his thanks is completely sincere.

"Congratulations to you, too. Tris told me as soon as she came home. She's really happy you're both pregnant."

"Me, too. It'll be kind of fun to go through this with her." I sound less sure of myself, even though I am thrilled Tris is pregnant, too. It's just starting to seem very real, that one day Eric and I will bring home a baby and I'll be responsible for someone else's survival.

"Are you telling anyone?" Four asks.

I shake my head. "Eric thinks we should keep it quiet for a while."

Four nods in agreement, being in the same situation himself. "That's a good idea. It's better for a lot of reasons."

I glance around the room, suddenly wondering if anyone is really paying attention to Four and me. If they were listening, this sort of information would be highly entertaining to them.

But no one is. The only other people in this room look half asleep, and one girl is far too focused on mixing up her coffee to even realize I'm sitting here talking with Four.

"Don't worry, no one in here is paying attention, and I have no intention of spreading that news around," Four says, and he stares at me for a moment. "You do know that we're all doomed now that you're having Eric's baby, right? I didn't think his ego could get any bigger, but now I understand that it's why he's looked so smug lately."

"He has?" I look up in surprise. Eric has barely mentioned the baby out loud. It had been easier to get him to agree to go to Four's wedding than to utter the word baby. "I didn't think he seemed all that enthused because of the timing."

Four snorts. "He's been gloating around here for the past week. You just confirmed why."

I lean back in the chair, secretly pleased at Eric's response. It only reassures me that he's content with the idea of the baby, more so than he has let on.

"I bet he looked happy," I think out loud, and Four grimaces.

"Something like that." He pauses and looks directly at me. "So, you are coming to the wedding, you and Eric?"

I nod my head, and Four nods his reluctantly.

"Great. Just who I always imagined sitting there while I get married," he mutters, and I try hard not to laugh.

I feel slightly bad for him; despite having been cleared from almost anything to do with Evelyn, he still seems to be the perfect scapegoat for Eric. Eric has yet to forget that Four walked away from his mother once he realized her true plans. He has held fast to the theory that Four should have known where she was; Eric has chosen to spend his days thinking of ways to pin the blame on Four. I pointed out to him, very gently, that Four hadn't left Dauntless in months — at least not that I knew of. I even reminded him that after what he learned about her from the return of Jeremy, it was highly unlikely Four would decide to side with his mother again.

But Eric had completely ignored this logic, instead choosing to turn his attention to other things that I couldn't really defend Four on. I figured I'd come back to this later, when he wasn't so worked up by the very mention of Four's name. I didn't want him to change his mind and totally refuse to attend Tris and Four's wedding.

I want to tell Four not to worry, that I'll keep Eric under control during the wedding, but I lose the chance when my phone rings loudly and repeatedly. I can't answer it in time, but they call back and I fumble to get it out of my pocket in time.

"Shit," I swear when I accidentally hit decline the second time. "I gotta go."

Four grins, and I know he knows exactly who's calling.

 

"Why are you wandering around Dauntless in the middle of the night? Todd called me and said he saw you walking through the hallways by yourself."

Eric greets me at the door with a stormy look on his face, and it only darkens when he sees Four standing there behind me, an amused smirk spreading across his own face.

"Hi, Eric," I greet him cheerfully, watching him scowl even harder. "Four's here."

I watch as Eric's eye twitches, and I swear I can almost see him thinking of ways to quietly dispose of Four before the wedding. He's probably imagining drop-kicking him off the chasm, or maybe shoving him down the elevator shaft. I slip past him, peering up at him from beneath my bangs. "I went for a walk and ended up at the control room. I couldn't sleep."

At my words, Eric relaxes slightly. His shoulders drop down a bit, and he lessens his venomous look. "Is everything alright? Are you okay?" He then looks at Four and lessens his scowl even more, realizing Four was actually working. "Is everything okay on the patrols? Any news?"

"Everything's fine. There's really nothing notable going on. I took a break and figured I would walk Everly back home," Four pauses, smiling slightly. "I'll tell Todd she made it back safely."

Eric nods before grunting a short word of thanks. I reach for his hand, sliding my fingers between his.

"Thanks for your help in the control room, Everly. Have a good night." Four says the words politely and quickly, waving goodbye before Eric can say another word to him.

"Bye, Four," I call out, ignoring the fact that Eric isn't very happy he woke up alone at such a late hour. "And who's Todd? Have I met him?"

"Go to bed, Everly." He says my name threateningly, breaking away to slam the door shut with more force than necessary.

"I am. I just couldn't sleep. I didn't think you'd be mad that I went for a walk." I shrug off his hoodie, setting it on the counter, turning to face my husband. Sleepy Eric has always been one of my favorite versions of him, but despite his messy hair, t-shirt, and boxers, he looks wide awake. He cocks his head at me, crossing his arms over his chest and he full on glares at me.

"Todd works one of the patrol routes that covers the upper floors. He called to ask if I was aware my wife was out there at eleven o'clock at night by herself."

I raise my own eyebrow at him, suddenly feeling rather tired. The clock on the wall tells me it's after midnight, and I didn't even notice how long I'd been gone. "I can't walk around by myself?"

Eric lets out of a huff of exasperation. "Not in the middle of the night, no."

I stay silent, and Eric uncrosses his arms.

"Next time, just wake me up. I don't care what time it is. I'll stay up with you until you fall asleep. But I don't want you walking around here at all hours of the night. You got it, Amity?"

I sigh, nodding my head. "Fine. But I left you a note."

It's a weak protest; Eric closes his eyes tightly and sighs heavily.

I wait for him to lose it, maybe threaten to make me stay home even longer or assign me to sit beside him all day. Instead, he steps forward and closes the distance between us. He stands right in front of me, towering over me, even as he reaches down towards the hem of my shirt. "I saw it," he murmurs, and it's mere seconds before he pulls the fabric up and over my head. "I just don't want you to get hurt out there. It's dark. You could fall and hit your head for the millionth time."

"Funny," I murmur, but I give in easily when his fingers reach for the waistband of my shorts. He pulls them down, then helps me step out of them, kicking them aside until I stand before him in nothing but my underwear. His arms encircle me, pulling me against his chest. I rest my cheek against his shirt, enjoying how warm he feels against my bare skin.

"I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't think you'd wake up."

"It's fine," he mutters, and I can tell he wants to say it really isn't. I haven't forgotten the way Eric was when I returned from being held captive by the factionless. The way he'd woken up on more than one occasion, not completely convinced I was really back.

"I didn't want to wake you. You were sound asleep," I tell him, letting my eyes close as his fingers find their way into my hair. A wave of exhaustion washes over me, and suddenly the control room seems very far away. "Besides, I wanted to tell Four we were going to his wedding."

Eric snorts, and I feel him tighten his arms around me. "Great. Glad you got that out of the way."

I laugh against his chest, knowing he's not really mad at me. We stay like this, his arms tightly around me, until Eric's hands move to reach around my waist, and he easily carries me back to bed.

 

"Motherfucker!"

I swear loudly, ready to punch someone, anyone. The light flashes red, mocking me with its refusal to unlock this door. It's not even like it leads anywhere exciting; it's simply the door to the supply closet, where I was hoping to find another box of pens.

"Do you need some help, dear?"

I turn around to find Linda watching me with an amused expression on her face. I silently hand her my keycard, and she examines it with great interest, as though she can diagnose the problem just by looking at it.

"It won't open this door," I tell her through gritted teeth, staring longingly at the coffee in her other hand. It's early, far too early for me to be dealing with the sudden realization that my charming husband is more than likely the reason why my card doesn't work. "I should have access to almost everything."

Linda nods and I swear her eyes flash towards Eric's office. "I'll submit your request for a new keycard. We'll see if we can get it reactivated before the day's over."

I thank her, turning to walk back to my office without stopping to say hello to Eric. I'm sure he's waiting for me to come storming in there, demanding to know why my card doesn't work. But I decide to wait. I won't say anything just yet, not unless Linda can't fix my card for me.

But I will wait until he heads out for his nine o'clock meeting, and then I'll simply walk into his office and steal all his pens, every last one of them.

"Vanilla or chocolate?"

Quinten is staring at me, his eyes boring into my soul as he hovers the ice cream scoop over the two oversized barrels in front of him. I know what's in them, and I know how quickly Dauntless will run through them. Especially once dinner starts in an hour.

"Both," I tell him, smiling widely when he nods his head in approval.

At the lure of ice cream, my week just turned around spectacularly; it had been progressing from dull to duller. Eric still doesn't believe that I feel better, and though his role as head nurse and warden of our apartment is over, he still seems to know where I am and what I'm doing every moment of the day. My night visit to the control room has left him unable to sit still without knowing what I'm doing.

He has spent his time sending me messages that I'm sure he believes are thoughtful, maybe even sweet in nature. Things like, Everly, for fuck's sake why are you standing by the edge of the chasm? Everly, I thought you were supposed to be in a meeting at ten. Are you still asleep? And my favorite— Amity, your ass better not be anywhere near Karl right now and if it is, I'll hunt you down and reassign you both elsewhere.

It's enough to make me want to lovingly throw my phone at him.

I have good reasons for everything I've been doing. I was standing near the chasm because Rylan and I were examining the railing after reading through several safety complaints from Arlene. She had filed no less than nine of them, stating someone could easily fall through the rails. That someone would have to be very short, because though the railing is old, it isn't totally useless. The first bar comes up to my knees, and the second comes up to my waist. I know from experience it's more than sturdy, but I wasn't about to explain to her how I knew that little fact.

The second text was warranted; I'd overslept not only through my alarm, but through two meetings. It's not like my absence was a major nuisance. The first meeting was on the progress of the new safety rail, and I was sure Rylan had a handle on that situation. He really didn't need me there to nod my head and remind Arlene that we have to wait for a newer, safer railing to arrive. The second meeting I was scheduled to attend was a discussion of whether we should all get new phones.

I currently vote no, seeing as how I am completely over the phone I already have.

The third text might have been my fault. Curiosity had gotten the best of me, and while Eric was busy with Max, I innocently wandered over to Karl's new office. I was impressed that he'd been given one, but once I got there I saw why.

It was covered in all kinds of things: maps and topographical printouts, papers with all sorts of notes scrawled all over them, patrol schedules and routes, and even several guns propped up against the side wall opposite his desk. Karl had been excited to see me for all of thirty seconds, and I can only imagine that was the exact moment when Eric began to text him.

Karl had all but shoved me out the door, as gently as possible, telling me he'd be back in a few hours and I couldn't come. I knew then he was being sent somewhere, and I wanted to tell him he shouldn't worry — I really had no desire to go with him. At least, not right then. I might have been bored, but I'm not stupid. If I wanted to go along on the hunt for Evelyn, I knew I needed Eric to personally send me.

Which, at the rate of one demanding text message every ten minutes, was never going to happen.

In fact, I ignore the latest buzz of my phone in my hand — knowing it's a message from Eric — and instead I focus on the bowl of ice cream in front of me.

"Do you want whipped cream?" Quinten asks, and I pretend I'm not already contemplating it. I finally nod my head yes, and again when he holds up a container of glittery sprinkles. He dumps enough on there that I almost can't see my ice cream anymore before handing me the bowl.

"Enjoy," he tells me kindly, his eyes stuck on the bowl of sugary delight before me.

"Thanks." I practically skip out of the kitchen before anyone asks me how I have ice cream before he's put it out yet. I wouldn't want to confess that I was so bored that when Eric had sent me to drop off the kitchen budget approvals, I'd hung around just to talk to someone other than Eric. By the time I'm almost out of the mess hall, I celebrate the fact that I've made it this far unnoticed. Until I reach the doorway.

Which is where I collide into Eric and his scowling face.

"I'm fine, really. I just got kind of bored. In fact, I'd like to start helping out again. I was thinking I could resume what I was working on before I got shot," I tell him, curling myself closer to him.

The look on Eric's face tells me I have a better chance of persuading him to give a congratulatory speech at Four's wedding than I do of getting him to let me join in on the hunt for Evelyn. He starts to sneer, his lip curling up as his eyes tighten, but I shove a spoonful of ice cream at him, and he strangely and obediently opens his mouth to eat it.

I smile sweetly, until he swallows and then shakes his head.

"No."

After running into Eric in the doorway of the mess hall, we went home. In some new act of chivalry, Eric carried my ice cream for me, earning a few strangely jealous looks while we walked home. I could only assume they were enviously trying to figure out how I had this treat before it was even out yet. Eric ignored them. He led us home, then to the couch, only handing me my ice cream when I kicked my shoes off and sat down beside him.

"I don't want to just sit around and wait. I want to help you. I know what to do. I was able to take down some of the factionless," I remind him as carefully as possible, keeping my eyes locked on his. He stares at me, only breaking away to watch as I eat a spoonful of ice cream.

"You can help by staying out of trouble," he answers, shifting back against the couch. "There are plenty of people working to find her. You don't need to be out there. Especially not right now."

"People are going to think…"

"I don't care what anyone thinks," Eric snaps, and he leans back against the couch. "All they need to know is I don't want you out there, endangering yourself or our child."

He does have a point.

I eat another bite of my ice cream, stalling. "I don't want to be out there every day. But I'm not really doing anything, Eric. I'm just doing whatever errands you want me to do. I mean, you deactivated my keycard."

Eric frowns at my words, managing to look almost guilty. "I reactivated it," he finally grumbles, keeping his chin jutted out. "But other than that, you don't need to be out there. Not right now."

"What else should I be doing? You barely okayed me to come into the office, and I don't even have anyone else to sign off on my return. You're the one that okays my paperwork."

Eric's frown turns into a smirk. "I okayed your return. That's enough for now. You can finish up your training before you turn into the longest leader-in-training we've ever had."

It's my turn to scowl at him. It's not that I want to be out there, walking patrol routes and shooting at people. I just want to be out doing something other than filing Eric's paperwork.

"You're turning me into your secretary. Which is not what I signed up for," I argue, not enjoying the way he smirks even wider.

"You didn't actually sign up for anything. I picked you to be in my program, Amity," he tells me smugly, stealing my spoon to eat another bite. "But now that you mention it, I do need a secretary."

I can't glare at him hard enough.

"That's it. I'm sleeping in the guest room."

He laughs at my empty threat, handing me my spoon back. "Suit yourself. I give you ten minutes before you freeze to death. Besides, it's just for another week, Amity. Then, when I can see you're fit for active duty, I'll sign off on that paperwork. But you're not going out there just to hunt her down. Your position here is not on one of the patrol squads."

"What if I show you just how I ready I am for active duty?" The words come out of my mouth before I can really think about them, and Eric picks out his own underlying meaning.

He laughs loudly, his head tilting back and his eyes shutting briefly. He turns to look at me, amusement written all over his face.

"Cute," Eric raises an eyebrow at me, and he reaches over and pats my knee. "I'm going to start dinner before you overdose on sugar. Then, maybe I'll let you show me just what sort of activities you're ready to resume."

I stare at him as he stands up. He pauses to shrug off his jacket, much slower than necessary. He tosses it beside me, leaving him in a black fitted shirt and pants. He smirks and walks away, leaving me alone with nothing but my ice cream.

 

An hour later, I get my way.

I find myself on top of him, his bare thighs tight and tense as I recline back, his cock buried deeply inside me. I listen to him groan, one of his hands digging into my hip, the other yanking on my hair hard enough that my head falls back.

"Fuck."

I lean further backwards, enjoying the way he feels as well as the stretch in my thighs, and I close my eyes.

While he may have been reluctant to let me hunt someone down, he certainly hadn't been reluctant to yank off my shirt and leggings, before settling me on his lap. I can only guess he felt this was the safest, gentlest position for us to be in. But it was fine with me. If this was his way of being careful, then I'd take it. I didn't want him to coddle me, and I certainly didn't want him to suddenly decide he didn't want to touch me.

I might be pregnant, but I certainly am not dead.

"Harder," I urge him on, feeling his fingers tighten their grip as his hips jerk forward. I don't think I'll ever tire of being with him like this, especially not now. The hand in my hair reaches through the strands, cupping the back of my neck to guide me towards him.

He grunts my name, slamming me down on top of him as his pace increases. I reach one hand forward to rest on his chest, letting my palm rest over his heart, feeling it race beneath my fingers. His skin is hot and sweaty, and I dig my nails into him as I feel everything tighten up.

"Everly," he drawls out my name, pulling my head towards his. I'm finally close enough that I can kiss him frantically, nearly groaning with frustration when he chooses to hold my head in place, one large hand on each side of it. He keeps moving his hips, and I'm lost in the rhythm he's set. "Say yes."

"Yes?" I sort of gasp, repeating him. I can't focus on anything but him; his eyes are dark and wide, stuck on mine with the utmost intensity. "Eric?"

"Just say it," he urges me, still not looking away.

Before I can even really think about why he wants me to say yes, I find myself gasping the word as I lose all control. My orgasm takes me by surprise; it blurs through me, forcing my head back and exposing my throat to Eric. I say his name again and again, totally lost in the overwhelming feeling. I'm vaguely aware of Eric tensing up beneath me, grunting my name into the skin of my throat.

My eyes close when I collapse back against him, falling forward as though I am boneless. One heavy arm presses me back against him, and he sort of untangles us so we are lying down.

"Good girl," he murmurs, mostly into my hair, his fingers pushing it out of my eyes. I'm too tired to answer, so I curl myself into him and fall asleep before I can figure out what I just agreed to.

 

On Thursday, I get my way again.

After signing off on a few papers Eric had shoved onto my desk, I walk towards the exit out of Dauntless.

My whole recovery has led up to this moment. I've spent countless hours imagining the bright, clear, blue sky, and the dazzlingly yellow sun rays that will rain down upon me. I can't wait to inhale the fresh air, feel the warm breeze, and stare at the fluffy clouds.

I spent days in bed dreaming of it, and now that Eric has signed off on it, I once again have access to go wherever I pleased. Within reason, of course. Eric is never far away, and the more freedom I have, the more I seem to be on his radar. I understand his protectiveness; he's gone as far as to point out that it isn't just me I'm responsible for anymore.

I think about that for a moment, pushing open the heavy exit doors and waving off the two guards standing there. He's right; it's no longer just me I have to worry about. I haven't given myself much time to think about our baby, mostly because I feel like I might jinx the whole thing.

But now as I step outside, I wonder if the baby will take after me or Eric. Will he or she share my temperament, or will they be a tiny clone of my husband? Will the baby like being outside the same way I do, or will they prefer to be deep underground, happy to spend their days glowering at the members of Dauntless?

The idea of our child makes me smile, until I'm actually outside.

The sun is practically gone, even though it's no later than two in the afternoon. The sky is dark with heavy clouds hanging in the air. Harsh wind cuts through the air, slicing painfully against my cheeks. It smells like rain, and it's not more than thirty seconds before there is a loud crack of thunder and it starts to pour. I stand there as the icy rain drenches me almost instantly, and I mentally curse whoever sent this storm.

I turn to walk back in, uselessly wiping the water out of my eyes, but I freeze when an alarm goes off. It is obnoxiously loud, some sort of piercing siren that goes on endlessly. I realize it's coming from an area by the trucks, and I move to take a step in that direction.

My curiosity loses out to common sense when the rain and wind seem to pick up. I can hear the shouts of the guards, urging each other to head back in, and the alarm finally stops as the rain increases.

In that moment, I wonder if Eric has miraculously learned how to control the weather.

 

I find him in the control room.

I walk through the door into the icy air, ignoring the sharp pricks at my skin. The control room is mostly quiet right now. There are only a few people working; Kacie is surprisingly not here, and everyone in the room is working silently.

Including Eric.

He's standing off to the side, his head cocked at an uncomfortable angle as he watches the screens flash back and forth. A few of them are full of static, and I catch his frown deepening as I stop beside him.

"What happened?" I ask him, fixing my stare on the grey blurs. They flicker for a moment, then resume their normal transmission. A shot of Amity shows the darkened skies bursting into rain right before my eyes, fields full of workers trying to hurry inside as the pelting rain pours down over them.

"What happened to you?" he asks curiously, noting my wet hair.

"I went outside and it started raining," I tell him.

Eric smirks, pleased that my plan was foiled by nature and not just by him.

"Cameras keep going down. I'm not sure if it's the storm or something else," he answers, then he turns to look at me. "Maybe someone's messing with them."

I watch as the few people working quickly type in command after command. The cameras move around, spanning quite a bit of distance, but everything looks relatively normal to me.

Eric must feel the same way, because he relaxes slightly, his shoulders dropping down. "Welcome back, by the way."

"Thanks," I tell him, grinning. "It was nice to be outside, even if just for a minute."

He smiles at me, sort of, and shifts his weight from side to side. "I'm sure it was. You look like you enjoyed it."

I find myself snorting as I push my wet hair out of my eyes. "Thanks, Eric."

The smile turns serious, and Eric eyes me from the side. "I need to talk to you about something."

At his words, my heart sinks, heavy with an unfamiliar panic.

"Okay. Is everything alright?" I ask, taking a step closer to the chair in front of me. In the lower right screen, I catch sight of a familiar, well-worn path. It leads to the Amity community housing, and I know that route by heart. For some stupid reason, the sight of it makes me homesick. I don't want to feel like that, so I turn back to Eric. He's watching me intently, now completely ignoring the computers.

"Have you made a doctor's appointment yet?" He says the words evenly, his eyes flicking around the control room before returning to settle on me. I catch him looking me up and down, his eyes landing on my stomach. "You'll have to see someone here, rather than in Erudite."

I freeze, and the sudden heaviness in my chest returns. I try to remind myself not to be stupid. Daniel is the Head Neurosurgeon; it's not like I'd have my appointments with him anyway.

"I haven't. But I could make one today," I tell him, and I take a step to close the distance between us. "Will you go with me?"

Eric swallows before nodding his head. He doesn't look nervous or uneasy, he just looks serious. "Of course I'll go with you."

I feel better at his words, and he reaches forward, taking my hand in his. "You just tell me when. I can rearrange my schedule."

"Okay." I feel relieved, at least until his phone rings. He answers it with a snap, now irritated at being interrupted. I listen to him talk for a moment before he stalks away, hissing orders at someone over the phone. I stand there, still staring at the screens as Four walks up beside me, his mouth pressed into a fine line.

"Low activity. Everywhere. It's a little suspicious," he tells me quietly, and I can't help but wonder if he feels the same rush of tension that I do. I don't know if it's the storm or the cameras flicking on and off or the suspicious lack of news, but it's making me uneasy.

He must catch the concern on my face.

"I wouldn't worry too much. The rain can knock them off sometimes," he offers up, stepping aside so a girl can take her seat. She looks up at me once, then back to the screen. There is a blinking message in the corner of her screen, and she clicks on it, pausing before answering.

"Three and six can come in, yes?" she asks him.

Four tenses up a bit, then shrugs indifferently.

"Ask Everly. I don't have the authority to call back a patrol squad."

She turns to stare at me, and I feel the sudden, abrupt weight of Dauntless on my shoulders. Truth be told, I have no idea if the patrol squads should come back in. This isn't something I've been trained on yet. I would imagine they'd want them to come in from the rain, but I don't know where they're at in their scheduled day.

Turns out I don't have to make the decision.

Karl comes into the control room like a tornado, pushing his own wet hair out of his eyes. His hair is longer on top now, the blonde strands dark from the rain, and he makes a beeline for the computer monitors.

"Call three, six, and seven and have them head to nine," he announces. Beside me, he seems massive, and he grins down at me. "Hi, Everly. Why are you all wet?"

"I went outside. Why were those alarms going off?" I ask him, and I notice Four is watching him carefully, his head tilted to the side as he pretends not to be listening.

Karl sighs in annoyance. "This storm knocked out one of the power lines, and that alarm tells us the security gates won't lock. But I fixed it." He sounds proud of that fact, smiling widely now. "Eric said he'd meet me here. Did he show up already?"

I nod, turning back to the monitors. I watch one flash back to Amity, lighting up the screen for one blinding moment.

"He'll be right back."

I watch a few more members of Amity scramble to rush inside, and I realize that I don't recognize a single one of them.

 

My luck turns around an hour later. The infirmary is completely empty, and even better, Arlene is nowhere to be found.

I take a moment to enjoy the fact that it's mostly deserted, then I walk up to the front desk, pleased to see Molly sitting there. She looks busy; she's keying something into the computer, and she only looks up when I say hello to her.

"Hey, Molly. I need to make an appointment."

I've been really hesitant to come down here for a few reasons. Eric and I decided we would keep the news of our pregnancy mostly to ourselves, and I found myself almost disappointed that I wouldn't be going to Erudite for these visits. Daniel is far from the type of doctor I need to see, but I had found some comfort in knowing he would at least be nearby. I could just skip most of the prenatal care, following suit with some of the women in Amity who have minimal prenatal care aside from those rare visits with my mother.

But I'm sure that the very idea would make Eric's head explode.

So I'm left with the Dauntless medical center, and that means eventually seeing Arlene. I'm not really trying to avoid her, I just don't want her overly involved in our lives. Part of me knows she will feel vindicated at the news of Eric's baby, though another part of me knows she will genuinely be happy. But I don't want to deal with her and her smug expressions, not just yet.

"Sure. Do you want to see a nurse or do you need something else?" Molly peers up at me curiously. I'm reminded of the day she announced she'd overheard that Eric and I wanted a baby. I wonder if she knows why I'm here, or if she just assumes.

"Is there anyone in particular you want to see?" Molly continues on politely, noting my ongoing hesitation.

I continue to flounder for a moment, scanning the desk for a list of services and departments. As far as I know, the infirmary only treats medical emergencies; there's a separate clinic for more mundane issues. But according to this sheet, there are also a few different specialists I could see.

"Um, I need…." I trail off, and Molly's eyes light up.

"Specialized department? Here." She slides a schedule across the desk, and relief washes over me when I realize Arlene's name isn't listed on any of these days. I skim over a few of the names until I find the one I need.

"I need to see Dr. Denten," I tell her, and Molly smiles widely.

"She'll be here this afternoon or tomorrow," Molly informs me, and I try to think of what I have planned. Nothing, really, unless you count the paperwork Max sent for me to finish up. I know Eric said he will be here, but he might have actual work to do this afternoon.

"Do you have anything tomorrow?" I ask her, quickly texting Eric to ask him if he has anything planned. His response is immediate, and I set my phone down on the counter before I respond.

"Sure." Molly hands me a few forms and a pen. "Fill these out, and I'll get you scheduled."

Five minutes later, I've filled out as much of my medical history as I can. Before coming to Dauntless, there's nothing noteworthy to write down. But even now, I leave off the part where I hit my head a few times, instead choosing to mention that I was injected a few times with substances I didn't ask for. I write Eric's name as my emergency contact, then neatly sign Everly Coulter beside it.

I stand up, taking the papers back to Molly, and she hands me a card. I realize she's scheduled me to have to have an ultrasound and some sort of checkup, and she grins at me.

"I wondered how long it would take before it happened," she tells me, and I have to say she looks pretty pleased. "I thought for sure it would have happened ages ago."

"Molly, can you do me a favor?" I ask her, realizing just what this means. Everything is starting to feel very real, and hearing her say she's been waiting for this day makes me wonder just how many people in Dauntless would be highly entertained by this information. The news of Eric having a baby would be the sort of gossip that almost everyone would want to hear.

"Sure?" She looks up at me, her eyes wide.

"Can you just keep this quiet. Don't tell anyone what's going on? Eric and I haven't really told anyone yet…" I trail off, and Molly nods her head almost instantly.

"Of course. I won't tell anyone," she promises. "I won't say a word."

I believe her.

 

A day later, I feel unusually nervous.

I sit in the lobby of the clinic that's located off to the side of the infirmary, trying hard to focus on the messages on my phone. There is one from Tris, wishing me good luck at the appointment and telling me she saw the same doctor. There's one from Christina, asking if I want to have dinner soon. I feel a pang of guilt at that one, and I reply with an immediate yes, hoping she won't be too mad that I haven't seen her yet.

There's also one from Eric, who, despite being seated right beside me, is texting me to tell me to relax.

I jerk my head up at him, noticing that he's reclined back rather casually in his chair, with an amused expression on his face.

"Are you afraid?" he asks, sounding more like he's talking about going through a fear landscape than a doctor's appointment. But I nod my head, figuring there's no point in pretending otherwise.

He'll know anyway.

"I don't know who this doctor is," I tell him, setting my phone down on my lap. I cross my legs, staring down at the ballet flats on my feet. "What if she's mean, or what if something's wrong, and what if.."

He cuts me off before I can reveal every single worry that has worked its way into my mind.

"Don't look so panicked, Amity. There's nothing wrong. And I've heard this lady is nice. She's not gonna hurt you, especially not while I'm sitting there," he offers up, crossing one leg over the other. He leans back, toying with his own phone. "Besides, you could always ask to see Arlene."

I shake my head immediately. "I'd rather she not know that I'm here."

Eric lets out a snort of laughter, and kicks at my foot with his boot. "Good luck with that. She knows every single thing that goes on in this faction. She's probably already reviewing your paperwork in her office."

Great. I've long suspected that Arlene spends her days obsessively analyzing everything that happens in the infirmary, so Eric's comment only serves to confirm my theory. I turn my attention back to my phone, asking Tris what happened during her appointment. Before she can respond, someone calls out Everly Coulter, and I freeze. I flash back to the first time anyone ever called me by that name, back when Eric 'accidentally' filled out my paperwork with his own last name.

When I look up, the nurse is waiting, smiling patiently at me. She motions for me to follow her, and I look back at Eric. I'm sure I look nervous, because I definitely feel nervous. I bite at my cheek until he smiles up at me, standing to reach for my hand.

"You okay?" he asks, ignoring the nurse watching us with curiosity.

I nod at him, relaxing only when his fingers tighten through mine.

 

It looks like a baby.

I stare up at the screen mounted on the wall and blink a few times just to make sure I'm seeing everything correctly.

I don't know exactly what I was expecting them to do when I walked in here. The room was warm and dimly lit, and the equipment was different from what I'd seen before. The nurse instructed me to lie down on this table, to lift my shirt up, and then wait while she slathered some cold gel on my stomach. A few minutes later another woman appeared, introducing herself as an ultrasound technician before sitting down beside me. She messed around with the computer, typing away quickly before pressing something onto my stomach.

A few minutes later, an image appeared on the screen, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.

"So, is this your first baby?" the technician inquires while clicking a million buttons, taking all sorts of measurements of the baby. I watch her measure the baby's arm before entering notes into the computer. I think she may have said her name was Tina, but I can't be sure. I'm too focused on the image of the baby on the screen. It's both smaller and larger than I'd imagined. For some reason I'd been picturing a blob, and this looks nothing like a blob.

"Um, yes."

She must not be overly familiar with Eric or me, because she's now asked me a few times if we have other children.

"You must be excited," she comments, turning to smile at me. I hadn't even noticed that she is very well put together. Her hair is neatly braided out of the way, her smile is wide and pretty, and her eyes are just as blue as the lab coat she has on. "First babies are always quite the experience."

I nod, keeping my eyes on her jacket. Her name is Tina, it's embroidered on the pocket in a fancy script, and there is an Erudite logo alongside her credentials.

"You're from Erudite?" I ask her, sitting up the tiniest bit. Beside me, Eric finally tears his eyes away from the screen to look over at me. He's been quiet the entire time, his body turned away from me and his eyes fixed on the image before him. "I thought you'd be from here."

Tina shakes her head, motioning for me to lie back down. "Born and raised there. All of my training was done at the main hospital, with my final two years spent assisting Dr. Denten."

"Oh." I find myself deflating a bit as I lie back down. Eric leans over to me, his posture relaxing slightly.

"Are you okay?" he asks me quietly, glancing at my stomach for a second, then back to Tina. She's cheerfully taking notes, her face concentrated on the keyboard in front of her.

"I'm fine. I was just thinking…" I trail off, and he nods, already aware of what I'm about to say.

"Okay," He leans back, turning to resume staring at the screen. The technician makes a few more clicks on the computer, and this time, there's a new view of the baby.

"Your baby is measuring at about 13 weeks, and everything looks fine so far. Do you have any questions for me?" she asks, peering back at me. "I just need a few more images, and then you'll see the doctor. She'll go over everything with you—"

"Is the baby a boy or a girl?" Eric interrupts, his head turning sharply to look at her. "Can you tell?"

She nods her head, her fingers pausing over the keys. She doesn't appear at all fazed by his interruption. "I can tell. Do you want to know now? Or I can print it out for you to take home…"

"Now."

"No, wait!" I sit up again so I can stare at Eric. He's perched on the edge of the chair, bent forward with his elbows resting on his knees. If someone didn't know him, they'd think he looks unimpressed, but I know better. His eyebrows are furrowed together, like he's deep in thought. "I think we should wait."

"What?" He looks at me like I've lost my mind. "You want to wait to find out? Don't you want to know?"

I shake my head.

I've been giving this some thought, mostly while we walked down the hallway. It hit me out of nowhere that there's something very strange about finding out the sex of the baby. It doesn't really matter to me what we have — I'll be happy either way. Other than when I discovered I was married to Eric, I've had so few happy surprises in my life that this feels like one worth waiting for.

"I want to wait. I mean, it's not like we can't change our minds and find out. But I think it should be a surprise."

Eric stays silent.

The technician smiles at the two of us. "You guys talk about it for a second. I'll finish up here," she offers.

Eric is staring at me with an incredibly intense look on his face, one that tells me I'm about to find out if we're having a boy or a girl. I stare back at him, watching him hold very still, until he reclines back and crosses his arms over his chest.

"You know how much I hate surprises," he points out, not budging an inch.

"You don't hate all surprises," I remind him, and he narrows his eyes at me.

"Everly, you really don't want to know if the baby is a boy or a girl?" He raises the pierced eyebrow, and his eyes flick over to Tina. "What if you change your mind once we leave?"

I shrug, and Tina glances at her watch. She then stands up, and hands me a few paper towels.

"Go ahead and clean yourself up. Whenever you're ready, I'll take you to the exam room." She pauses, and I realize the machine beside me is now printing out a whole slew of pictures. "I'll give these to you to take home. If you'd like, I can write on one of them the sex of the baby. That way, you can still find out if you change your mind."

She's mostly looking at Eric. He looks smug as he nods his head affirmatively.

"Good." He sounds triumphant, and I ignore him as I hop off the table.

"It was nice to meet you both." With that she leaves, shutting the door behind her. I finishing wiping the goo off of me, and I pull my shirt back down. Tris advised me to wear something I could easily pull up, and I'm glad I took her advice.

"Are you really going to find out?" I ask him. He watches me adjust the waistband of my leggings, folding them over until I'm happy with how they feel. I notice he has all of the photos in his hands now; he takes the one with Tina's handwriting on it, then hands the others to me. "You don't want to wait?"

"No."

His answer is short, but not because he's mad at me or annoyed that I don't want to give in. It's because he's staring down at the photo that Tina wrote on, his eyes glued to the picture.

 

"Based on today's ultrasound scans, you're on target at roughly 13 weeks along, and the baby's systems all seem to be developing normally."

She peers up at me over her black glasses, eyeing me carefully. Dr. Denten is interesting; she's far younger than I thought she would be, and her blonde hair is an icy white color that makes me think she would fit in well in Dauntless. She waits for my reaction, and the only one I have is surprise.

"Really?" I ask, sitting up straighter. "That seems further along than I was thinking."

She makes a few quick notes on my chart before she pulls up a chair to sit beside me.

"You've had no real issues so far? No nausea or vomiting? Any dizziness?" She rattles off a long list of possible symptoms, and I shake my head at all of them until she gets to exhaustion.

"I have been really tired," I tell her. "I overslept the other day and missed a meeting."

"Totally normal," she confirms, and I notice her staring at my wedding ring. She then looks back up at me, smiling brightly. "So far, everything is great. The baby's heartbeat is within range, and you're doing well if the only issue you have is that you're tired. Just try to rest when you can, but I think you'll start feeling a little more energetic in the next few weeks."

"Good." I feel better at her words, and she circles something on the paper.

"Make sure you are taking your vitamins, and make sure you are eating and drinking enough. You can continue with all your normal activities as usual, just be mindful of how you feel when working out." She hands me a few sets of papers that have all sorts of information printed on them. "Read through these. Just some basic information you might find interesting, plus a few tips to get you started on thinking about where you'd like to deliver the baby."

I feel nervous all over again. I must have a funny look on my face, because Dr. Denten keeps talking.

"Your husband must be excited about the baby," she says brightly. "He certainly seems to be."

I find myself smiling, even though Eric had needed to step out. At first, he stayed for a few uncomfortable minutes while she asked me a slew of questions far more intrusive than Arlene ever had. It felt odd. At least I knew Arlene, and her nosiness was to be expected, but I answered Dr. Denten the best I could. Then Eric's phone rang; he left to answer it and had yet to return.

"He is. He's wanted a baby for a while now," I tell her, and she seems happy to hear it.

"Good. Now, have you thought at all about where you'd like to give birth? Are you planning on delivering here?"

I spend the next ten minutes listening to her talk about my options. I can have the baby in Dauntless: she's always on call for anything I need, and if something were to come up, there's a backup doctor as well. Or, I could have the baby in Erudite: she notes that with Eric's position in Dauntless, he's free to choose whatever sort of care he'd like for the baby, including taking advantage of the available Erudite resources. She confesses the care will be a little more comfortable there, but she reassures me I'll be fine no matter which option I pick.

She finishes up my appointment by telling me she'd like to see me back in a few weeks for my next checkup. I agree easily; I don't have anything too pressing planned, and it's not like Eric is about to let me do anything that can't be rescheduled.

I pick up the stack of photos she's given me, smiling at the image on them. I can't tell if the baby is a boy or a girl, and Eric has the one photo with the answer written on it. I take a few minutes to look through them before I decide to head out of the clinic to find Eric. I try to retrace the path I followed to walk in here, but by the third turn I'm completely lost.

This area is mostly deserted. I look around for someone to notice I have no idea where I'm going, but there isn't anyone to help me. I pass by a few more empty exam rooms, an office, and a supply closet before I realize I'm right back where I started.

When I finally conclude that I'm utterly lost, I pull my phone out of my pocket and select Eric's name. I wait for it to connect, hoping once he answers I can have him come find me, but it goes straight to voicemail.

I press the end button, and I decide to keep walking. By my logic, eventually I'll have to end up at the front. A few minutes pass, and I attempt to call Eric one more time. It goes to voicemail again, and I decide to send him a message. I'm starting to feel a little panicky; I keep my head down, typing as I walk faster. I get halfway done typing the message when I round a corner and crash right into someone. Two strong hands grip my arms, steadying me in place, and I glance up in total embarrassment.

"Are you alright?"

He peers down at me, his face full of surprise and concern. I stare at his perfectly sharp haircut, trying to ignore the sudden stinging behind my eyes. I nod, blinking furiously to help dispel the feeling.

It doesn't work.

"Everly," he says gently, and I forget everything that's transpired in the past few weeks. "Is everything okay? Did you get lost back here?"

I step towards him and throw my arms around Daniel, hugging him tightly.


	53. Decisions for Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your patience! I know that wait sucked, but this should hopefully make up for it. I have a list of people to thank for their help with this chapter, because without all of them, this would still be sitting on my laptop. So, thank you all for adding just a little bit extra to it!
> 
> There is an Outtake coming in the next day or so. It features everyone's favorite trainer, Lauren. It should help tide everyone over until the next chapter. I will be on vacation all next week, but I've set aside some time so the wait won't be quite as long.
> 
> Thank you to BK2U for editing this so quickly! The fastest ever ;) Next time I'll make sure there are even more commas. Like, thousands of them. Which there probably were in here.
> 
> Thank you to Felyneve for teaching me how to spell Harrison and other words that should be common sense.
> 
> Thank you to Societalfailure for your moral support and advice, and also for sending me the most amazing and inspirational photo EVER.
> 
> Thank you to Erika, for being annoying.
> 
> And a big thanks to everyone who is reading, reviewing, and following the story :)
> 
> Enjoy.

He holds onto me tightly.

I keep my arms around him, my cheek pressed against his freshly starched shirt, and I close my eyes. He smells clean, like antiseptic and rubbing alcohol, and the scent is oddly comforting. I shut my eyes tighter; the emotions of the past few weeks threaten to spill over, but I force myself to breathe deeply, trying to slow down my racing thoughts.

"Hi," I tell him, my voice stuck in my throat. I contemplate telling him some of the other things running through my mind: that I'm sorry I said goodbye to him, that I didn't mean it, and that I'm sorry that Blythe went and ruined everything. I think about telling him how badly I had wanted to go to Erudite for my appointment on the mere hope that I might run into him. But I don't.

Because now that he's standing right here in front of me, my plan seems so stupid.

"Hello, Everly."

He says my name warmly, holding onto me tightly, moving one of his hands to touch the back of my hair before he very gently untangles himself from me. Besides Eric, he's the only person from whom separating feels physically painful.

For a minute, the two of us stand there, staring at each other.

"Is everything okay?" I ask him, searching his face for any clues as to why he is here.

But there are none.

He looks stoic, every bit the professional doctor he is.

After a moment, Daniel nods, readjusting the sleeves of his suit jacket.

"Everything is fine. I'm actually here for work, making sure each faction's medical center is up to code, starting with Dauntless. I prioritized this faction first." He pauses, then shrugs lightly. "For a few reasons."

I nod a few times, and I can't help but smile, even if it isn't quite as bright as normal. "I forgot about that."

"It happens." He grins at me, his face starting to reveal some of the warmth I'm used to seeing, then he glances down at his watch. I know he's busy — beyond busy — and that it'll be mere seconds before he politely excuses himself. I chew on the inside of my cheek, desperately trying to think of something to say to keep him here.

"It's really good to see you again," I offer up, and my voice breaks halfway through my sentence. He notices immediately.

"Everly, are you alright?" Daniel asks quietly, and he stares down at me through his glasses, appraising me in a gentle manner. I will myself not to break down, not to demand he just stay here and forget about life in Erudite; I bite back my desire to tell him that maybe Eric can help him find a way to get rid of Blythe and then everything will be just fine. And because my last plan certainly didn't work out so great, and because I know that this plan isn't even remotely plausible, I shove the idea down, albeit reluctantly.

"I'm fine, I just didn't expect to see you here," I tell him, and he nods at me. "I got lost. I was looking for Eric and I…I don't know where he went."

For a long beat, we stare at each other in silence. He looks like he wants to say something, like the words are right there on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't. I try hard to look at him, but I can feel a burning sensation building, and I know it means I'm about to cry. He must notice, because he steps back towards me, one of his hands cupping my elbow.

"You know what, why don't you sit down for a moment and we'll catch up while we see if we can find out where Eric is."

His words are less of an offer and more of a command. He points to one of the exam rooms, and I nod my head at him. I feel relieved, until my eyes catch sight of the group lingering behind him. A wave of embarrassment washes over me at the sight of his veritable army of staff standing a few feet behind us, all waiting for him.

They are all clad in the same shade of royal blue; some in scrubs, some in suits and jackets, and a few in blue dresses. They watch with great interest as I stand there, clutching sonogram photos in my hand, trying not to cry. I'm sure I look every ounce the hot mess that I imagine myself to be, but I try to pretend I'm fine and not losing it at the mere sight of my father-in-law standing in the middle of Dauntless.

"Give me a few minutes. Those of you who needed to speak with Dr. Denten's staff, I suggest you do it now. We'll regroup after lunch. You have until 1:30 before I'll expect you back here," Daniel intones, dismissing his staff before following me into the room. It looks the same as the one I'd been in before, but I can tell it's rarely used.

"I'm so sorry. I don't want to interrupt you. I know you're busy." I sit down in one of the chairs opposite the exam table, and Daniel takes the seat next to mine.

He looks over at me, scanning me up and down before nodding. "I can take a break. We've had a hectic morning, but nothing too crazy. I wondered if perhaps I'd run into you or Eric."

I look down at my shoes. "Did you see him? He left a little bit ago."

Daniel shakes his head. "I haven't. But I would have come this way earlier had I known you two were down here."

"How long are you staying?"

He leans back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. "The rest of the day. We're aiming to finish up this area today, and it's possible I'll be back tomorrow. I'm tackling the infirmary with Arlene, and making sure it's where it needs to be. Arlene runs a pretty tight ship, so I'm not overly concerned." Daniel hesitates, then locks his stare on me. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"I am. I feel fine... I just... I thought, I mean I hoped you might call."

He stares at me, the same way Eric stared at me when I sat upon his lap and pried answer after answer out of him.

"I know it was my idea for us not to talk. It was a really stupid idea…" I trail off.

He glances down at his feet, the dress shoes far shinier and sharper than mine, and he shakes his head gently. "I wanted to call. I actually thought about it a few times, but I couldn't exactly think of the right thing to say. I know why you said goodbye, Everly. And I wasn't about to go against your wishes."

I chew on my lip.

"I was under a bit of scrutiny for a while. Blythe wasn't very happy I helped you, and she certainly wasn't any less suspicious of why I defended you."

"I know. It's my fault she was so furious." I peer up at him, worry coming back all over again, but he shakes his head.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," Daniel tells me, his expression sliding into something serious. I notice his eyes fall to the pictures beside me, and he straightens his spine until he's sitting perfectly straight. "Did you have an ultrasound today?"

He says the words politely, trying not to pry, though I know he must be curious, especially since this is his grandchild. Most faction transfers go their entire lives without ever seeing their families outside of Visiting Day, thus grandparents knowing their grandchildren can be a rare thing. In some ways, I've been more than lucky to get to visit my and Eric's family as often as I have.

"I just had one today. Do you want to see the pictures?" I hand them to him before he can answer, watching his face carefully. In a lot of ways, he reminds me of Eric. He keeps his expression neutral, his lips pressing together as he stares for a second before taking the photos from my hand. He stares down at them, letting out an exhale after a few moments of silence.

"Everything go alright?" he asks, and I nod my head at him.

"It went fine. I like Dr. Denten, and I go back in a couple of weeks to follow up," I answer.

"Do you find out the sex of the baby?" He sets the photos on his lap, flipping through them. I stare at his hands, as he looks at every single photo, silently inspecting each one. "Everything looks really good from what I can see here. The baby looks well."

When he looks up, I shake my head at him. The photos the tech gave me only show a side view of the baby, and I couldn't tell, no matter how long I'd stared at the picture. "I told Eric I wanted to wait. I want to be surprised."

"And how did Eric take that?" Daniel asks.

I laugh, starting to feel a little bit better now that I've had a chance to sit and collect myself. I can almost forget about Blythe, about the very fact that she'd lose it if she saw him sitting here with me. That she'd have some rather choice words to say to the both of us, starting with me interrupting Daniel's work again.

"Not well. But he knows. He demanded that the ultrasound technician write down if it was a boy or girl on his photo."

Daniel smirks, nodding his head. "Sounds like something Eric would do." He then pauses, looking back down at the photos. "You really want to wait until you have the baby to know? That's rather far away."

"You sound just like Eric," I laugh, and I watch as his face falls a bit. He leans back in his seat, and sighs heavily.

"I'm sure. I should give these back to you. Are you ready to go? Should we try to call Eric?"

"Do you want to keep one?" I blurt out, ignoring his questions completely. I wonder if the ultrasound picture is something he'd even want. Blythe would probably rip the picture to shreds if she found it, but maybe he can put it in his office, somewhere away from her. If he even wants it. "You can keep one if you'd like to."

Daniel stares at me for a very long time before he nods his head. "Everly…"

I take my opportunity while I can. He's here, in Dauntless, and there's a reason I ran into him. There's no way I can just walk away from him now, not like this.

"Will you eat lunch with me? We could go to Clyde's. It's close to here. I'll call Eric right now and find out where he went. I know he'll come," I cut him off, hoping he'll say yes. He has no reason to; in fact, he could very well tell me he needs to eat with his staff or point out that he's here for work.

But he nods his head again, smiling widely at me.

"I'd love to."

He neatly stacks up the photos, sliding one inside his jacket pocket, and then extends his free hand out to me. "I think I'll lead the way out of here," he offers, and I beam as I take his hand and stand up to leave.

 

Eric looks unimpressed when he slides into the booth beside me. He glowers at his father as he settles in, throwing his arm around me and yanking me closer to him. I see he hasn't forgotten how angry he was at him, and he seems hell-bent on ignoring him, despite sitting directly across from him.

"Sorry you got lost in there. Max was having an absolute fit because no one could find Karl. Turns out he forgot he sent him out where there's no radio reception," he informs me, and I swear he presses his lips onto the top of my head, just for a split second. Or maybe he's just muttering the words into my hair, but either way I relax into him, smiling when the waitress drops off our drinks. "Then I got stuck listening to Max for the next half hour."

"It was fine. I found your dad." I grin at Daniel as he accepts his coffee from the waitress. He looks more relaxed than earlier, happy to be sitting across from us once again, even if his son doesn't look totally thrilled to see him.

"She scared the daylights out of me. I wasn't expecting to run into her," Daniel comments cheerfully, completely ignoring Eric's annoyed expression.

Eric scowls at Daniel and reaches for his own coffee, still disregarding his father's presence. I can tell he's still irritated at him, and I hope he'll calm down before the lunch is over. He looks at me, shifting us closer together by a fraction of an inch, until he seems happy. "You got lost back there?"

"I just went the wrong way. I couldn't remember how to get out," I tell him, reaching for my drink. I take a sip of the bubbly soda, pleased that it burns when I swallow it down. "I kept walking in circles until I crashed right into Daniel." Eric sort of huffs, and I lean into him. "But I'm glad you could meet us for lunch. It's nice to see your dad again."

Eric nods indifferently, setting the coffee down in front of him. "I figured you'd want to eat before we meet with Max at two. I meant to remind you earlier, but I didn't get a chance."

"What for?" I ask him.

Eric shrugs. "I'm guessing it's about the open leadership position."

I peek up at Daniel, noticing he's watching the two of us intently. The last time Daniel and I talked, I decided being a leader in Dauntless wasn't something I was ready for. I'd felt torn, the heavy weight of the decision looming over me with every step I took. It felt as though there were an intense amount of pressure being placed upon me, but I'd come to realize it was pressure I was placing on myself. After being shot and returning to Dauntless, I knew I needed to make a decision, but that it should be one that would make me happy.

"Okay, good. We should talk about it," I answer Eric, and he smirks in response.

In front of me, Daniel toys with his menu, studying it like he hasn't joined us for multiple lunches here. There are a few new items I can see; some new type of nachos and a chicken sandwich that sounds surprisingly good. Our usual waitress hovers nearby, her eyes glued to us until she's forced to help another table when they loudly demand more chips.

"Eric," I say his name softly while Daniel flips his menu over. "You should say hello to your father."

Eric gives me the dirtiest look I've seen on his face so far, and then he sighs heavily.

"Hello."

He greets him in a rather caustic tone, one so sharp that I can feel it on my skin. I elbow him in the ribs, knowing it won't do much, and he scowls at me again.

"I said hello, what more do you want?" he snaps, and I turn to look up at him.

His father is still an easy target for Eric's temper, someone he can blame Blythe's psychotic verbal attack on by association, but I don't want him to send Daniel running.

"Eric," I say his name gently, "He's not the one that said those terrible things. You know that. Try to be a little more cordial," I smile up at him, hoping he understands why, and to my immense relief, he does.

"Alright," he sighs, glancing back at his father. "Fine. Welcome back to Dauntless."

Daniel looks amused, nodding his head at Eric as he leans back, settling against the worn leather of the booth, flipping the menu over.

"Thanks." Eric looks over at his father skeptically. As he does, his eyes suddenly narrow and he cocks his head at Daniel, an odd expression overtaking his features.

"Now, why are you here? Did something happen to Blythe, or are you sneaking around behind her back again? Does she know you're here?" Eric asks him sharply, seemingly incapable of remaining cordial. I crane my head up to look at him. His words sound condescending, full of accusation, irritation, and mockery. He's looking directly at his father as Daniel sets his menu down, not bothered at all by Eric's words.

"I'm here on business. But things are good, better than they've been in a long time. And I don't need Blythe's permission to come here," he offers up casually.

Eric doesn't buy it.

"Bullshit," he snaps, unconvinced. "If things are so great, where's your wedding ring? Did Blythe have a few choice words to say before she revoked your marriage? Is she gonna hold it over your head until you give in and apologize?"

My mouth drops open at Eric's words and my eyes fly to Daniel's ring-less hand. His father doesn't answer him for a minute. I hold my breath a bit as I wait for his answer, worry working its way up my spine at Daniel's expression. He might be saying things are good just to smooth things over, or to make us not worry. It's not like Blythe couldn't really stop him from coming here for work.

But he looks hesitant, though only until he speaks.

"I left her."

I freeze with my hand halfway to my drink, suddenly stuck in place.

"You left her?" I can't bring myself to utter her name, but I notice that Daniel looks both relieved and happy. He doesn't look as stressed out as before, and had I not been thrown off by the mere sight of him, I would have realized that earlier.

"It wasn't an easy decision. After you left Erudite, I realized things with Blythe were out of my control. Our relationship was too far gone to fix it. She would never accept your marriage, and she would never make it easy to continue coming to Dauntless. I didn't want to spend all my time defending my own actions."

He pauses, to take his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes for a brief second. "When she suggested that I should have left you to fend for yourself, that was the end for me. I couldn't imagine not helping you, I couldn't imagine if something had happened to you or to…" He trails off and I find my grip on my soda is now so tight it might shatter in my hand. There is little doubt that Blythe did not care for me, and she certainly did not care for her grandchild.

"I wanted to be able to come and visit you both. To see my grandchild when he or she is born. Not to spend my days answering to her."

"So you're just…you're done? How does that work?" I glance up at Eric, noticing his face is still a mask of disbelief. His eyes flash to mine for a second, and they look icy as ever.

"What did you do? Offer her everything?" Eric asks him, shrugging his shoulders. "She wouldn't make it that easy for you to leave, now would she?"

Daniel smiles patiently, as though he's been expecting these very questions. "I didn't give her everything. You know I have friends in Candor who specialize in this sort of thing, ones that could help me if the need ever arose. Blythe and I were able to come to something of an agreement, if you can call it that. The last thing she wanted was to go before a jury to divide things up."

Eric shifts in the seat beside me, and his fingers toy with the edge of my sleeve, tracing over my bare skin. "Right. I'm surprised she didn't try to tell you how scandalous it would for someone in your position to just walk away from his wife after all these years. Try to manipulate you into staying."

Daniel holds his stare, and for a moment, they share the same expression.

"It happens more often than you think. It took some convincing, but she eventually realized this wasn't up for discussion. It helped that I offered to keep quiet on a few things. She's not as innocent as she believes, and it wouldn't take much for them to open up an investigation."

I stare at Daniel in confusion, but Eric nods his head.

Daniel slides his glasses back on. "She could be indicted on charges of aiding Jeanine if the right people were alerted. Her participation in her sister's plans, even if minimal, would be enough to cast doubt on her as a threat to the factions. But she was willing to take significantly less and I was willing to pretend I didn't remember any of that bullshit. Unless she tries to make things difficult."

"What kind of charges?" I blurt out, and Eric looks over at me, his jaw clenching a bit.

"She counseled them, didn't she? The people Jeanine used as test subjects?" he asks.

Daniel nods. "No one ever really looked in Blythe's direction, but if I were to mention it, they might." He pauses to take a sip of his coffee and he shrugs. "So, I left her the house and a few other things. There was nothing I really wanted. I bought another place, one closer to work."

"Good for you," Eric offers up, his words less sharp than before. He actually looks impressed if you look closely enough. "I didn't think you'd ever divorce her."

Daniel looks directly at him, then me, and then smiles. "I certainly never imagined my marriage ending quite this way, but there are far more important things to focus on right now."

I stare at him, trying hard not to grin victoriously. I lose that battle despite my efforts, eventually smiling at the thought of Blythe all alone, the threat of being prosecuted hanging over her head and the knowledge that Daniel had chosen us over her. His words meant he was now free and he could come see us anytime he wanted.

"Good," I announce, and Eric snorts.

"Don't sound so enthused, Amity. She could wander in here at any moment now, looking for you. Blaming you for the dissolution of her marriage," Eric teases darkly, and I elbow him.

"She wouldn't."

As far as I know, Blythe has only been to Dauntless once, to attend a dinner where her husband secretly slipped her enough peace serum to make her pleasant. I don't really think she'd come here on her own, especially not if she thought she could be taken into custody and prosecuted.

"What was she doing with the test subjects?" I change the topic, realizing Eric never told me anything about it. The details of his involvement with Jeanine and what had happened were known only to him; if he had any lingering feelings on the woman he'd once helped, they were buried down deep. I only know the bits and pieces of what he's told me: that he once helped her, offering his services to further her theories, but that it had all changed when my name appeared on her list.

Eric clenches his jaw back down, and I can feel him dig his nails into my skin. He and his father stay quiet, and Daniel finally exhales sharply.

"Just testing of sorts. Things that no one but Jeanine thought necessary. Blythe helped out after," he tells me, and he looks grateful when the waitress stops back by our table, smiling down at us. She listens as Daniel orders something, pointing at the menu with great enthusiasm.

"Blythe counseled them when Jeanine was through with them. Trying to... repair them enough to be tested again," Eric mutters.

I nod. "Did you know any of them?"

Eric's whole body stiffens.

"No," he snaps. "Not beyond their names."

I lean further into him, letting my head rest against his shoulder. The position is a little awkward, but I want him to know that I believe him. Early on, I had wondered if he would turn me in if my name were sent to him. Later, I learned that our marriage had stemmed from his desire to keep me away from her, but it didn't mean Jeanine couldn't have demanded he hand me over.

"What happened to them?" I ask, the waitress looking over at me expectantly. I quickly order soup and a salad before handing her my menu. "Are they free now?"

Daniel nods while Eric unenthusiastically orders a hamburger. He's clearly been listening, and he smiles widely, his face lighting up considerably.

"Everly, everyone is free from Blythe now."

 

I say goodbye to Daniel, but this time, it's completely different.

He hugs me tightly, promising to call and reminding me he might even see me tomorrow. I want to invite him over for dinner, but earlier he mentioned he was meeting Arlene, and I know that if he isn't done in time, he'll have to bring her along. I decide I'm not quite ready to have her nosing around our apartment or bluntly asking me a million questions, so I keep quiet.

"You three take care," Daniel announces, adjusting the collar of his jacket. He pats Eric on the shoulder almost gingerly, and I watch as Eric stares at him for a good second before nodding. He looks uncomfortable with his father's touch, but he sort of grunts a goodbye, stepping closer to me. Seeing how awkwardly they interact with each other on that level, I can understand now why Eric has such an aversion to emotionally heavy physical affection.

"We'll see you for dinner soon," Eric declares, and I find myself grinning at Daniel. He winks in my direction, and this time when he walks away, I find myself feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

"I can't believe he really left her," I tell Eric, craning my head up to look at him.

He smiles tightly, reaching for my hand, and sliding his fingers between my own. His grip is unusually tight as he tugs me towards the hallway, and I hurry to keep up with his pace.

"Neither can I, Amity."

It's the first time I've ever heard Eric sound surprised by anyone's news, but I can't think of a better reason for it.

 

 

Our meeting gets rescheduled.

Mostly because Max and Karl are still in Max's office, loudly arguing over the armory inventory, both of them sure they had done the last physical count.

"I just did it," Karl counters, and if I squint at him, he looks just like Eric in his dark uniform. "You said you were busy with Arlene, and could I please help you out just this once. I spent an entire afternoon in there. With the new guy," He cocks his head at Max, and all that's missing are the tattoos on his throat — he could be Eric's twin.

"The last count date is months ago," Max tells him, facing Karl with squared shoulders, ignoring the blistering glare on Karl's face.

Eric and I stand in the doorway, watching them intently. They both look irritable, neither of them refusing to back down.

"It's wrong. And I'm not doing it again," Karl tells him hotly, and Eric smirks.

I'm surprised at Karl's refusal, but I figure out why when Eric pulls me away from the doorframe and we head towards Eric's office. I can still hear Karl and Max arguing loudly, each growing more and more annoyed at the other.

"I already did your TPS reports! I'm not covering for you again!"

Karl's shriek echoes down the cavernous hallway, bouncing off the walls, and I realize the poor guy might just be doubling as Max's assistant.

 

 

Instead of sitting in on the meeting, I spend the rest of my day with Eric, learning about different patrol sections and how to call or recall the squads. He shows me how to prioritize certain areas, knowing the specific signs to look for, and while some of it is stuff Kacie showed me in the control room, some of it is brand new.

"Factionless riots would warrant four squads or more, right? I can send them without question?" I ask while seated across his lap, one of his hands lazily trailing along on my thigh. He nods, spreading his legs a bit wider and adjusting the both of us.

"Especially now. Anything relating to the factionless would require immediate action. You wouldn't be questioned for sending them. Individual factionless, depending on their activity and whether it's suspicious or not, might only need two or three men. It's up to you, and whatever decision you think is right."

I nod, writing this down carefully. I'm starting to pick up on the fact that leaders make decisions based on their own judgment. It would be up to me and what I deem necessary, and there's a surprising amount of weight behind that authority. "What if I choose wrong?"

Eric shrugs, moving around me to pick up his phone.

"You send more, or call some back in. It happens. Tori once sent nine patrol squads out for what was called in as a factionless uprising. Turned out to be some kids from Candor throwing rocks at the fence."

I laugh, hoping I never make that mistake.

"Harrison one time sent just a small patrol squad out, only three men, to an actual factionless uprising. He had been on shift for over forty-eight hours, and he thought he sent three patrol squads out. Lucky for him, we caught what was going on and sent backup. There's a reason there are more than a few leaders. You aren't in this alone."

He says the words quietly, and his free hand moves around my waist, pulling me back against him.

"There's nothing you can fuck up so badly that we can't fix it. If that's why you're hesitating, just know I won't let that happen," he murmurs, and I find myself growing warm at his words. "I'm not going to let you take on anything you can't handle, or that I can't help you with. You won't have to worry, if that helps you to make your decision."

"Thank you," I answer, sighing happily when he kisses my neck after sweeping aside my hair. I'm not quite sure when Eric picked up on the fact that I might not want to leap right into being a leader, but it's not surprising. Nothing gets past him.

"Now, can you tell what section typically has the least amount of activity?" he asks, and I try to focus back on the map in front of me. It's hard when his mouth is on my neck, but who am I to tell Eric his training methods are distracting.

"Abnegation and this section of the woods." I point to the map, and I can feel him grin.

"Ah, so you were paying attention," he announces, pleased at my answer. "Good girl."

After a few hours, the day comes to a pleasant end when I feel like I've memorized the coordinates for each faction, and then some. We head home together, walking out of his office hand in hand. I say goodbye to Linda while Eric merely nods in her direction, and we walk past a few members still working. Their stares are far less inquisitive than they once were, but still noticeable. I smile at them, keeping my head held high until we are at the elevators.

"Do you think we'll see Daniel tomorrow?" I ask him, waiting for the doors to open up. I step inside after him, noting the way he keeps his shoulders squared, like he's ready to fight someone.

"Maybe. You could always go visit Arlene if you really want to see him. Tell her you hit your head or something," he teases, and I find myself horrified at the thought.

"I'll pass, but thanks," I mutter, and Eric smiles widely.

 

 

He makes me dinner, violently chopping away at vegetables while I reread through the stack of notes he's brought home with him. My own notes are written in a nonsensical order, dotted with a few doodles I drew whenever Eric took a phone call or had to do actual work. Eric's own notes are intense, written neatly and perfectly spaced, his handwriting only growing sloppy when he wrote the word Amity. Below that, Evelyn's name is circled a few times, along with a list of coordinates.

"What are these?" I ask him, turning around in the kitchen chair to glance over at him. He's enthusiastically tossing the vegetables into a pot of boiling water, and I realize with great delight he's making stir fry again. "What area is this?"

I try to remember the codes, but the map swims in my mind, full of far too many numbers and letters. The factions are roughly outlined, each one sprawling out much larger than I'd ever imagined. I hold the paper up for him to look at it, pointing to the numbers.

Eric pauses, cocking his head to the side. He squints from the kitchen and then shrugs indifferently.

"Amity."

I stare back at him, and his lips curl up, still focused on his cooking as he adds noodles.

"They're coordinates in Amity. We think she's near there."

My heart sinks to my stomach. While this is good news, her whereabouts narrowed down, I can't help but immediately think of my family there. I wonder if she knows who they are. There's no doubt that if she caught wind of them there, that she would be heartless enough to go after them purely out of revenge.

"Eric," I gasp, digging my fingers into the chair. "My mom is there! My brothers and sisters! She could kill them!"

"Relax. The coordinates are for the outskirts of Amity, almost bordering on Candor. Nowhere near where your mother and her voodoo magic are." Eric smirks at me, and I calm down the tiniest bit. "She won't dare venture where they might recognize her. She's not quite that stupid. Besides, the area is now well-patrolled, including further into the most central parts of Amity."

"We have patrol squads in Amity?" I ask him curiously, and he rolls his eyes.

"Yes, and you can't join them."

"I wasn't going to ask to join them. Have they found anything yet?" I ask, wishing his worry that I'm always ready to leave Dauntless would die down already. He's calmed down a bit with his obsessive knowledge of knowing where I am every second of the day, but I can tell he'd much prefer if I just never left his apartment until the baby was born. Maybe even beyond that.

"Not really." He looks at me out of the corner of his eyes as he patiently cuts up chicken. "You okay, over there? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine, I just don't want her hurting them," I tell him, and I set the papers back on the table. "If she knew who they were…"

"She won't," Eric answers easily. He wipes his hands off, and picks the knife back up. "She's not dumb enough to ask anyone in Amity for help. Though I have little doubt that the Amity instinct in Johanna wouldn't be able to turn her down if she did."

"Funny, but I think she would be able to come up with a few reasons to not help her," I retort, and I stare back at the papers. The coordinates mean more to me now, and I have the sudden urge to continue studying them tonight so I can recognize them in the future.

Until I find myself yawning.

"Are you tired?" Eric asks, and when I glance back up at him, he's staring at me, his face pinched in displeasure. His brow bone looks very pronounced from this angle, and I can tell by his expression that he had other plans for later tonight.

"Sort of," I admit, and he nods once.

"Okay." He resumes slicing things in half, his attention now refocused on the meal in front of him.

I hate to admit it, but I am tired. After the doctor's appointment, running into Daniel, lunch, then spending the afternoon working alongside Eric — stopping only for coffee and some fruit that Linda had graciously brought in — I'm wiped out. Eric had decided we should work on something other than Evelyn, but everything seemed to relate back to her.

I didn't let it bother me. I enjoyed my afternoon with just him because it brought me back to the early days of training with him. He spent most of his time teasing me, his lips on my neck or trailing up my sides while I worked away.

He and I both know that sooner or later, Max will ask me about my future in Dauntless, that I'll soon have another class to train, and that things will be back full force. The luxury of spending every day beside Eric will come to an end, even more so once we have a baby to deal with.

"Will you lie down with me after dinner?" I ask him, and he looks up suddenly.

"Of course." He pauses, and then stares at me threateningly. "But I'm not watching another one of those shitty movies."

I smile innocently, not wanting to confess I don't even have enough energy to sit through another few hours of vampirefest. There's another dinosaur movie that I've wanted to watch, but I don't think I can watch it tonight. So I keep quiet, watch him carefully until he's lost in thought, his grey eyes gleaming every time the knife hits the cutting board. He looks calm, easily soothed by the routine of cooking dinner, and I realize it feels like there's never been a time when it wasn't him and me together.

 

 

"Everly."

My name is drawn out, slowly dangled from his lips.

"Wake up."

It still feels like the middle of the night when I wake up slowly, my dream still fresh in my mind. I dreamt that I had given birth, except I couldn't see the baby's face no matter how hard I tried. A slew of nurses in royal blue had whisked the baby away, despite my increasing protests. Ignoring me completely, they handed Eric the baby as I watched, a frown deeply etched on his face as he looked up and over at me. I groggily asked him to show me our child, but he refused, only to turn and call the baby 'initiate'. I lay there as frustration washed over me, Eric never saying any other name or giving me any clue as to whether it was a boy or girl; the feeling lingered even as I woke up.

"You awake yet?"

My eyes open wider as the mattress shifts beneath me, and I realize what's going on.

He's kneeling between my legs.

When my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, I'm greeted by the sight of Eric's head bent over me, his damp hair slicked back and in place. The muscles in his shoulders are flexed tight with tension; he has one hand on my hip, and the other is trailing up and over my stomach, lazily gliding over my ribcage.

He must have just gotten out of the shower because his fingers feel warm as they move over me, and he smells like soap.

"Are you going to sleep all day?" He teases with his words the same way he does with his motions, slowly and purposefully.

His fingers deliberately trace over the skin, just lightly enough that I'm tempted to squirm but firmly enough that I don't move. He does this over and over, occasionally venturing up higher, until I raise my knees to trap his legs in place. He's playing with me, waking me up in the most torturous way possible.

"It's the middle of the night," I tell him sleepily, but Eric shakes his head.

"It's not. It's time to get up, Amity. You have a meeting with Max at ten, and only because your name is associated with mine am I waking you up. This is one you can't sleep through."

I find myself smiling in the dark, his hands still skirting over me as he somehow knocks the covers off of me completely. He doesn't look up just yet; he keeps his head hovering just far enough away that I can't kiss him, but close enough that his hair occasionally tickles my skin.

I feel his mouth find the bones of my ribcage, his lips pressing over it, warm and lush, and I grow warm, then burning hot beneath him.

"What are you doing?" I ask, enjoying the way he's slowly making his way down my side. The few times we've fallen back into bed together have been nothing short of perfect, but he's been somewhat careful — restrained even. But right now feels different, more purposeful, like he's planned this.

"Eric?" I say his name again, shifting slightly.

He doesn't answer. He is too distracted, his teeth dragging across my skin until I groan with pleasure.

I decide to use his intense focus to my advantage, reaching to scratch my nails down his back. When he responds the way I want him to, by attempting to knock my hands away, I decide to see if he'll spill what he knows.

"I need to ask you something," I whisper, and he nudges me with his nose.

"What do you want to ask me, Amity?" He sounds dangerous, his words far too soft and curious. He moves upwards, his teeth dragging over my bare skin, avoiding anywhere I really want him to go. I try to stay focused, but he's clearly got an agenda for this morning, and I have just a few minutes to talk to him.

"Is the baby a boy or a girl?" I ask, my words a sigh when his mouth finds my collarbone. I reach one hand up to grasp the back of his head, holding him to me. His hair is soft and cold between my fingers, and I dig them in the same way his teeth dig into my skin.

"Oh, now you want to know? What happened to waiting?" Eric bites the words against my skin, his lips lingering over the raw flesh.

"I was just wondering," I murmur, pushing myself closer to him. "I was thinking I should find out…"

"Are you sure you want me to tell you?" He grates the words out, and my eyes close when he doesn't stop. His cheek grazes my own for a split second, freshly shaved and smooth as he works his way past my lips and down the other side of my neck.

"I think so."

How I manage to say the words is beyond me. His fingers are tracing very lightly beneath the curve of my breast, a few cruel inches from where I want them, and I try to adjust so he'll continue upwards. He gets the hint; he never takes his mouth off my skin, but his hand slides up, and I sigh when he squeezes firmly.

"I dreamt that we had the baby and I couldn't see the face. And you wouldn't tell me the baby's name," I tell him, my words sounding far away. He's settled the weight of himself on top of me, heavy and solid and hot. "You just kept calling the baby 'initiate'..."

He snorts, then shuts me up by kissing me violently, and I realize he's very intent on waking me up this morning. He breaks apart after a moment, looking down at me with eyes so dark they look angry, but it's the furthest thing from the truth.

"You weren't too pleased the last time I ruined a surprise for you, were you, Everly?" He says my name slowly, his tone teasing, and I realize seconds too late that Eric isn't about to tell me, no matter how much I want him to. "You got awfully grumpy when I told you Dumbledore died."

I swallow when he forces my legs wider, pushing me deeper into the mattress. "Well, that was just mean."

Eric laughs, and from his position above me, he looks as handsome as ever, utterly delighted at what's happening. There was once a time when I lay beneath him, attempting to pull off his boxers to make him eat his own words. He had the same pleased expression then as he does now.

"I never said I was nice, now did I?" Eric leers are me, rising back up on his knees. He reclines back on his calves, watching me sit up.

"You really won't tell me?" I ask, ignoring the way his lips turn into a smirk. "Not even a hint?"

"No," he retorts, bending forward until his nose touches mine, and one of his large hands reaches around to cup the back of my head, tangling in my hair. "At least not right now. Maybe later."

His words are slick, purred as he presses his lips against mine, pushing me back down. It's not long before his hips follow suit, and I only want him closer.

"I'll tell you in six months," he announces. I should have known better. Part of me knows that if I push hard enough, he'd probably give in, but not right now.

"Okay," I manage to gasp as he breaks away. I miss the warmth of him instantly, my whole body screaming for him to come back. I watch him reach over to the nightstand, and he fumbles for his phone. It takes me a second to realize he's turning off his alarm. "I can wait."

I watch as Eric turns back to me and smiles, pleased as ever.

"We'll see." He smirks, taking in the sight of me naked and sprawled out in our bed. His eyes linger for a moment, studying me intently. Then he smiles lazily, moving back over me so he can press himself on top of me. His bare skin is electric, and I pull him closer against me, until I can feel every inch of him.

"I'm awake now," I tell him, urging him onwards, smiling when I see his lips curl upwards.

"Good." He presses the words against my lips, and our conversation is soon forgotten.

 

 

Max stares at me.

It's like he can't quite figure out where to look — his stare skirts over my face, then up and down, then to my face, then to my stomach, and then finally back to somewhere just over my shoulder. He smiles, and I dare say he looks pretty pleased.

Eric and I both sit in the desk chairs in front of him, waiting for him to get on with this meeting. He's rescheduled it numerous times, and I suppose it couldn't be put off any longer because he finally summoned us to his office to talk.

"Thank you for coming," he starts off, taking a sip of his coffee. "There are a few things I thought we could go over, and I know you two don't have a lot of free time, so let's use this advantageously."

He eyes Eric beside me, and I have to stop myself from laughing. The last time Eric and I had sat in on a meeting together with just Max, it hadn't gone well. Max had informed Eric that I had to complete my training by working with some of the other leaders and not solely under him, and Eric had not taken it well. He'd actually stormed off, leaving me standing beside an elevator and staring after him, my enthusiasm waning when I'd realized he wasn't coming back and he really didn't want me to train with anyone other than him.

But now he just looks amused; I should know that isn't always a good thing.

"Let's just cut to the chase then, shall we?" Max continues on, grimacing when he takes another sip of his drink. "Britney will not be rejoining us, and Everly should be finishing her training up shortly. Ideally, you both know it would be easy and logical for Everly to step in and take her place."

Eric clears his throat, and I try not to look at him. It wasn't that long ago that I was sprawled out beneath him, basking in the bliss of our morning together. It was hard to sit in front of Max when I could almost still feel Eric on top of me, his strong legs pinning me to our bed.

"She isn't coming back? At all?" I ask him, trying to focus.

Max's eye twitches. "She's... uh… she's pursuing other interests." He pauses to drink his coffee again, then immediately sets it back down. "We do need someone to take her place. I'm well aware you're almost done with Eric's training, but I'm also aware that this might be something you don't want to do… at least not right now."

I look up at him in surprise. Beside me, Eric is totally still, and Max continues to look directly at me. "We have a few positions open when you are done. I know you've worked hard, and you ranked high enough to pick where you'd like to go. We have an ambassadorship position that will be available soon, and we also have a few council positions that you can fill in on part time. If you choose not to take the full time leadership position, I'd like you to consider choosing something that will allow you to eventually work your way into it."

His words catch me off guard. I was unprepared for him to have thought of other options for me, and I'm even more unprepared when he slides a paper at me. "Read through this when you have time. Whatever you decide, we'll be happy to have you. Eric says you have a few weeks left, and we'll plan on meeting again then."

"Thank you," I tell him, and I sneak a peek at Eric. He's smirking, and I'm fairly certain he had a hand in this. "But what about the position? Who would take it if I didn't?"

Max leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "We'll find someone. Worst case scenario, Eric takes on another leader-in-training and we wait until they're done."

Eric must not have been expecting that because his face slips into a mask of annoyance. "You have someone in mind?" he asks, not sounding thrilled at the idea.

"Not yet, but the right person will come along if Everly chooses something else."

"Can I ask you something?" I take the paper from Max, scanning it quickly. There are plenty of options for me to choose from, and I'm almost shocked Eric hasn't already picked one for me.

"Sure," Max responds, shuffling the papers around on his desk.

"What about Evelyn?" I ask, and Eric grunts in annoyance at the sound of her name. "Eric mentioned you guys thought you knew where she was. Are we close to finding her?"

Max looks at me intently, then sighs when his computer beeps.

"We're hoping to have her in our custody before you're done training. That would be ideal. But yes, there are squads out there right now, doing exactly what they're supposed to be doing, " Eric announces, completely dismissing my question.

"But you've made progress, right? Is there anything I could do?"

Max pauses to look over at Eric, a knowing expression crossing his face, before he turns back to me. "Are you asking to help apprehend her? You want to utilize this as a final part of your training? What do you have left to cover?"

I sit up a bit straighter, knowing Eric won't like this at all.

"I'd like to help anyway I can," I announce, and I can feel Eric start to sit upright as though someone has pulled him up by his neck.

"The rest of your training is far too time consuming to be pounding the pavement in an attempt to find Evelyn. It's much more productive for you to focus on other things." Eric says the words smoothly, and I realize he has zero intention of letting me help him anywhere outside of his office. I can feel his stare on me, but I refuse to cave in. "She has a few minor sections to finish, and her combat training has been substituted with additional control room detailing and a battle mapping course."

I finally turn to look at him, and he looks unimpressed. "It should only take a few more weeks. You'll be busy for almost all of that time."

"I'm sure there are other things I can do to help. I don't have to be out there looking for her," I insist, ignoring the fact that Eric is probably regretting his decision to wake me up for this meeting. "I can help Karl with the patrol squads or Kacie in the control room. Please. She's taken a lot from me, and I'd like to be there when they find her."

Beside me, Eric makes a very unpleasant sound, and it only gets louder when Max nods his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"I think they'd greatly appreciate your help, Everly."

 

 

For the first since I've met him, I think Eric might lose it completely.

He looks at me so maliciously — eyes narrowed, lips pressed together, and his hands balled into fists — that there is a very real moment where I am a tiny bit afraid of him. Not because I think he'll hurt me, but because he looks livid enough that I think he might spontaneously combust.

"Have you lost your mind?" he hisses, one large hand wrapping itself around my arm. He none-too-gently pulls me into his office, his features more pronounced than ever. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Why don't you just walk out there and—"

"I'm not going out there. I can help around here. I want to do something, Eric." I cut him off by stepping towards him, hugging him tightly until I can feel his heart beating furiously beneath his shirt. One of his hands moves to rest on my back, his fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt forcefully.

"She'll hurt you, Everly. She won't think twice about killing you. She'd be more than happy to make sure you don't come back here alive. And then…" He pauses, and for once, Eric's words sound so unlike him that I have to look up at him to make sure he's the one speaking. "And then what would I do? This time she'll make sure you're shot somewhere that isn't so easily fixed."

I hug him tightly, tilting my head up to stare at him.

He looks both miserable and furious, but less so when I stand up on my tiptoes, shaking my head, and I press my lips to his.

"I'm not going out there. I just want to offer my help here in any way I can. Even just sitting with Tris while she watches the video feeds, just something so I feel like I'm being useful."

I murmur the words against his lips, and he responds immediately. Both of his hands grip each side of my head, holding me in place while he kisses me back, softly at first, then harder until I can't breathe.

"You're more useful than you know."

He says the words forcefully before he resumes kissing me, his lips warm against mine. I don't know how much time passes, but when he finally breaks apart from me, he looks less murderous and more like the Eric I curl myself into every night.

"You can come with me. Show me what you would do if you were me," I suggest. If there's anything I've learned about Eric, it's that he only needs to think something is his idea. He's smart enough to know what I'm doing, but he gives in easily, smirking down at me once more.

"If I were you, I'd stay home where I was safe," he retorts dryly, but then he sighs and looks down at me. "But I'll show you whatever you want, within reason," he promises, and this time, he's the one to bend his head down, pressing his lips to mine.

 

 

Christina glares at me something fierce, the very same way Eric glared at me when we left his office and I quickly told him I was heading out to meet Christina for lunch.

Her dark look only lasts a split second before her arms fly around my neck, hugging me fiercely and nearly knocking me over.

"I know!" she announces triumphantly, somehow dragging me towards the salad line. "I know you're pregnant because Rylan knows you're pregnant and he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Congratulations on the baby!"

In that moment, I know all chances of keeping the baby a secret are long gone.

I mean, I really can't blame Eric for telling his closest friend. I told Tris, and he probably assumed I would tell Christina. But I nearly clamp my hand over her mouth when she asks me how far along I am and her question seems to bounce off the walls. A few heads turn in our direction, the cafeteria now filling up with what seems like thousands of Dauntless soldiers all on their lunch break. They are loud, laughing as they push and shove each other into the lines that are rapidly forming.

"Chris, quiet! We haven't really told anyone. Or at least I thought we hadn't." I try to shush her, and to her credit, she does lower her voice.

"Eric told Rylan, but he warned Rylan not to say anything to anyone else. But there's no way Rylan couldn't tell me. I promise I'll keep it a secret," she swears, beaming at me. "I'm so excited for you two."

"Thanks," I tell her, slightly overwhelmed by the rush of people moving past us. Salads are not a very popular choice in Dauntless, but I have never had less of a desire to eat something heavy, and Christina seems to feel the same way.

"I know, I know, you guys don't want to tell anyone and I totally understand. But I've been dying to see you so we could talk." She looks so happy that she might explode. Her enthusiasm is contagious. I find myself smiling, the excitement of such a secret rising up all over again.

"I've missed you. I wanted to see you sooner, but—"

"You got shot. And Eric wouldn't let anyone near you," she interrupts, handing me a salad plate. I take it from her, helping myself to the pasta salad before it's gone. "Rylan told me not to even try. I forgot how testy Eric gets when things don't go his way."

"How did you forget that?" I stop plating my pasta to laugh at her, and she shakes her head.

"He's gonna be a beast of a father. I'm surprised you're even down here. Did he put a tracker in you and the baby? Is he lurking in the kitchens so he can make sure you're eating lunch?" Christina is speaking so fast I can barely keep up, and I follow her to pick out a sandwich. Nothing looks very appealing, but I grab one anyway. "I heard he tried to deactivate your key cards again."

She sounds gleeful at all this, the gossipy girl talk we've missed out on because I was hospitalized in Erudite and then stuck in the apartment. I make a face at her, one that reveals my exasperation at her reminder.

"He didn't believe I felt better. I think he would prefer I just stay home until the baby is born. But I can't. I'd be way too bored. And I want to help with the search for Evelyn. I don't want to just sit around until they find her."

"Especially now," she announces, and I look at her in confusion. "I'm guessing you only know what Eric wants you to know, right?" she asks knowingly.

"He told me they think they know where she is. That she's somewhere near the border of Amity and Candor. I offered to help with finding her," I answer, and the look on her face makes me realize I'm about to get the real details about what's going on.

Fifteen minutes later, I have half a mind to find Eric and strangle him.

Christina filled me in quickly, giving me the most basic but most informative version possible. Karl and his patrols were working beyond overtime. Once he realized he wouldn't be out there himself, Eric had personally assigned Karl the task of bringing him Evelyn's head on a platter, sealed with the alluring offer of joining his training program if he was able to find her. Karl took the challenge with great enthusiasm, and while he hasn't quite found Evelyn yet, he's certainly found plenty of her men and women. Christina told me no less than twenty-six of them sat in our holding cells, each one relentlessly pumped for information on her whereabouts. A few finally cracked, revealing to Jason and Rylan that the last time they had been with her, she was holed up near Candor with plans to head into Amity. She was banking on there being some hidden support there; I had the sick feeling she was thinking Landon might still be there.

Christina told me, with wide eyes, that to the surprise of everyone, Eric has been busy with other things. There's a quiet rumor that there could be another uprising amongst the factions, and security detailing has fallen to him. It's menial compared to finding Evelyn, but Rylan explained that everyone was worried that if Eric were the one to find Evelyn, he'd simply kill her on the spot.

"They want her back alive," she tells me, her brown eyes locked on mine. "They think Eric won't be able to control himself if he sees her."

I swallow down my water and make a face. "Do they really care? She deserves whatever she gets. From Eric or whoever else finds her."

Christina waves her sandwich at me. "They don't really care, but they want to follow the proper protocol to make sure her legacy doesn't live on. He said Harrison thinks she's trained replacements in the event of her death."

"That makes sense," I conclude, my stomach turning over unpleasantly. The idea isn't that farfetched, not one bit. I sort of wish Eric was the one going after her now, because if Eric were the one to find her, she'd probably go the same route as Landon, and so would anyone who was with her. "Was Eric mad? Did Rylan tell you all this?"

Christina nods. "He was furious, but what could he do? Rylan said he eventually calmed down and then demanded to send someone in his place. So he picked Karl. Oh, and have you met Karl's girlfriend? We had dinner with them the other night. She's super nice."

"I did. I really liked her. I met her when Rylan and I went looking for Britney." I finish my pasta and begin to pick apart my sandwich. "I'm glad. Karl deserves someone nice, and she seems like the perfect person for him."

"Anything else you want to know?" Christina asks me mischievously, and I shake my head. She's filled me in on pretty much everything that's happened. I find myself sort of relieved to hear that this is all I've missed out on.

"Oh, Tris and Four. We'll be at their wedding!" I inform her, and her face lights up in delight.

"Thank God," she exhales. "I love Tris, but it's gonna be the least exciting event ever. She doesn't even want a wedding dress. She said she already had something she could wear. Can you believe that?"

"Well… yes, I can."

If I really think about it, I can. She and Four share the same upbringing. I try to remember what little I know about Abnegation. I would guess weddings there aren't a huge affair, and purchasing a dress specifically for a wedding is probably unheard of. But I've seen Tris's closet, and there's nothing wedding-worthy in there.

"I think it's because she's having a boy. I think he's sucking the life out of her." Christina looks thoughtful, pausing only to reach for her drink. "Remind me never to get pregnant. You two are having a hell of a time."

"Should we offer to help?" I ask, smiling at her commentary. She's not totally wrong. "Maybe we can take her shopping and try to find something that she'd like?"

Christina now looks utterly pleased, a large grin spreading across her face.

"I thought you'd never ask."

 

 

It's near the end of the week when I find myself with a few unusually free hours. Rylan stopped by to see Eric in his office, and after sitting and listening to them talk about a riveting debate between Jason and Todd and the existence of some sort of spirit that loomed in one of the deepest hallways of Dauntless, I decided to skip out early and go home. I looked forward to the quiet, and when I finally stepped through the doorway to our apartment, the relief was overwhelming.

I head to our bedroom, shrugging off my sweater, and pause at the end of our bed with it in my hands.

I take in the sight before me, feeling a strange wave of nervousness wash over me. Eric's large bed is perfectly made, the dark sheets neatly arranged beneath the warm comforter, the fluffy pillows perfectly lined up. The rest of the room is just as neatly organized and straightened out, even my nightstand. Eric's apartment has always been spotless, and it took me a long time to realize there was a housekeeper that came in and took care of things when we weren't here. It's not like she had much to do when it was just Eric here, but I've given her a few more things to clean and organize, though not much.

But that was all about to change.

I close my eyes and try to imagine what it will be like to lie in Eric's bed with his baby. I wonder if he'll want the crib in here. This room is large and spacious, the bed centered on the wall and flanked by two nightstands, and an oversized dresser located opposite the bed. On my side of the bed there is room for a crib, I suppose. I'd grown up always sharing a room, hearing a baby or toddler cry throughout the night. My mother and father never hesitated to invite them into their bed, often winding up with more of their children in their room than not.

I stare at the space by my side of the bed and I realize I can't picture that happening here.

There is a very selfish part of me that doesn't want to share Eric, no more than he wants to share me. I'm sure at some point this feeling will fade away. I won't want the baby far away from either of us, but his room seems so very Eric that I can't even picture a crib in it. I can't imagine stacks of tiny baby clothes on his dresser or bottles on the nightstands. It's hard to picture a baby in bed with us, potentially spitting up on the most intimidating man in Dauntless in the middle of the night.

I feel myself smile at that thought, a slow grin spreading across my face.

He'd hate it, but I think there is a secret part of him that won't. Not entirely. He'll find himself with the family that he never had, the one that he never thought he needed. Maybe he won't mind the mess that I know is coming, or the lack of space he'll soon have in his own home.

I set the sweater down on the bed, stepping out of the dress I picked out this morning, and very happily pull out one of Eric's shirts and a pair of my pajama shorts. I have no real plans for this evening and no real intention of actually getting dressed again. My eyes fall to a few of his dress shirts set to the side, and I realize he meant to send them out to be fixed. A few have missing buttons, probably pulled apart as he undressed, and a few have loose threads that could easily be taken care of.

It only takes me a few minutes and a quick search through the hallway closet to find just what I'm looking for.

Half an hour later, I'm curled up on the couch, completely lost in replacing the buttons on his shirts. It feels oddly soothing, almost mind-numbing in a good way. I turn one of his dress shirts over, sliding the needle neatly through the fabric, and pull it taut. It's not like Eric can't afford new shirts, not even close. I just happen to know he likes these particular ones; they are fitted but not too tight, and I would go so far as to say they've been tailored to fit him. I can't picture him easily fitting into the slimmer cut shirts I've seen some of the other members wear.

I finish one of his darkest shirts, holding it up to make sure it looks even, and when I set it back down, I realize he's home, standing right behind the other couch, watching me with his head cocked to the side and a strange expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" He sounds curious, but he stays put behind the couch.

"I was sewing these buttons back on. I know you like these, and I figured I could do it while I had some free time. This way you won't have to send them out," I tell him, still examining the shirt. It looks perfect — back to normal and ready to be worn. "I hope you don't mind."

The strange expression stays on his face. It's almost one of confusion, and I realize he's probably thinking I sewed the sleeves shut or something.

"My mom taught me how to sew," I explain, setting his shirt down on the coffee table. "We always had so many kids around that the hand-me-downs never lasted very long. So, she taught me to mend them and how to make patterns and all of that."

I feel like I sound dumb saying all this, that I'm rambling on and on like some airhead from Amity who is talking about making clothes to a man who's never worn anything less than finely tailored uniforms and shirts. I peer up at him, feeling a little bit foolish. "I can stop. I'll leave them for…"

"How many kids does your mother have again? All together?" Eric asks, his eyes fixated on the shirts on his table. "You all shared clothes?"

"Seven, plus me," I answer quietly, and to his credit he simply nods. "And the clothes just get passed down. I mean, we got new clothes or made new clothes. But I helped my mother by making sure they lasted as long as possible."

Eric nods again, probably horrified at the idea. I don't doubt he's never worn anything that was handed down to him.

"I didn't know you could sew." He says the words tightly, like I've kept some deep dark secret from him. "You never mentioned it."

"It never really came up." I reach for the last shirt, one of the plaid ones that he rarely wears but which I wish he would. "I would have told you if you had asked me."

"I'm gonna go change. I'll be back," he tells me, walking away after glancing back at the pile of his shirts one final time. It takes me a second to decide his confusion must come from the fact that Eric's never seen me do anything even remotely domestic. Short of washing his dishes or hanging up bath towels, I haven't exactly been wife of the year. Mending his shirts seems too wifely for the relationship we've had.

Which explains why, when he comes back shirtless, his eyes are dark and lusty. He knocks the shirt out of my hands, tossing it aside without looking to see where it falls, my giggle of protest dying when he pulls my shorts off before his own follow suit.

It's only a short while later before he comes while on top of me, his thighs heavy against mine and his forehead pressed up against my own. He kisses me lazily, muttering something about ordering dinner, and I'm very happy when I realize I still won't have to put pants on.

 

 

The lighting in the room is far too bright, not at all flattering, and all too familiar. It beams down like a spotlight on its victims, poised to aim directly on whichever hapless shopper is stuck in front of the makeshift dressing room mirror.

"Not that one. That one looks… hideous." I shake my head while keeping my face neutral, trying to tell Four as kindly as possible. I squint at it, hoping maybe it'll change my perspective, but it doesn't.

Four sighs heavily and his shoulders slump. "I told the girl it was ugly."

I lean back against the wall of the waiting area, crossing my legs in front of me. We've been here for an hour now, and this bench isn't growing any more comfortable. Four had found me walking out after lunch, and he'd sheepishly asked me for a favor. He'd said it so quietly that I almost didn't hear him, but when I finally figured out what he wanted, there was no way I could say no.

The poor soul had no idea what to wear to his own wedding.

I wasn't quite sure if I could be that much help. I haven't attended a wedding nor had one of my own here in Dauntless, and the few times Eric has dressed up he's worn the blackest of suits with the blackest of shirts. I have very little to go off of, but I do at least have a little more sense when it comes to clothes. Four seems to be stuck somewhere between far too casual and far too formal. I know he has a suit that he wore to my anniversary dinner, but when I suggested it he said he felt like he should have something a little more wedding-appropriate.

"Maybe that one," I point to the suit the salesgirl is carrying towards us.

She smiles happily, pleased to have something to do. Formalwear isn't a huge selling point in Dauntless, so I wonder if she's bored out of her skull most days. She's been overly helpful, plying him with all kinds of styles and colors before he can even utter a word as to whether he likes them or not.

"It looks good from here," I tell him, feeling rather optimistic, mostly because the suit does like nice, even from a distance.

I can tell, even while it's still on the hanger, that it's not as fitted, dark, or as sharp as Eric would wear, but it's nice enough for a wedding in Dauntless and it isn't visually offensive. The last suit Four tried on had pants that wound up being too short, a vest that was too large, and a dark maroon dress shirt that was too ugly. I watch as he accepts the latest ensemble with a look of utter pain, but he's actually relaxed and smiling when he emerges from the dressing room a few minutes later.

"I think this might work," he informs me, and I couldn't agree more.

Just like it's strange to see Eric undressed from his stiff uniforms, it's weird to see Four in something that isn't training- or combat-ready. Even in the control room he looks ready to leap into action. But standing before me, in this charcoal-colored suit and jacket, he looks nice.

"That's the best one I've seen so far. I think it's perfect," I tell him while glancing down at my phone. I have three messages from Eric, all asking what time I'll be done helping Four, though not so nicely. I tap back a reply, telling him I think we're just about finished.

"I'll take this one," Four announces, to both me and the salesgirl, and we both nod our heads in relief. "Everly, do you know what Tris will be wearing?"

Four says the words in a way that is meant to sound casual, but I know better. Unfortunately for him, I can't help him there, because Tris hasn't shown me what she plans to wear.

"I haven't seen it yet," I remind him. He'd tried to be subtle when he asked about it the first time, but the truth is I really don't know. Deep down, I want to tell him that I'm really nervous and that her secrecy is a little unnerving. She wouldn't even show Christina and me when we showed up at her apartment. I'm slightly afraid my friend might be walking down the aisle in the most hideously bland dress she could find.

"Right," he answers with a nod, and then he smiles ruefully. "That's okay. I'll figure something else out. Thanks for your help. You're the only other person I know who's really attended any of the formal events here."

"Sure. I'm glad I could help," I answer, and I really am. I was surprised when he wanted to buy something, but it's his wedding. I don't think he'd want to get married in something he might wear to work or just happened to have lying around.

"You and Eric are still coming? He didn't change his mind?" Four takes off the jacket, standing there for a moment before he hands it to me. The fabric is nice, and I neatly fold it over my arm. The salesgirl appears again, looking pleased when I hand her the jacket.

"We'll be there. He won't change his mind," I promise, but Four looks at me with an expression that tells me he wouldn't exactly mind if Eric did change his mind. "He'll be nice. He likes weddings. They're practically his favorite event."

Four raises an eyebrow at me, and I can't keep a straight face. The words sound ridiculous, even coming from me.

"I'll take your word for it," Four snorts, and even the salesgirl can't keep from giggling.

 

 

"According to this book, the baby is now the size of a pear," I announce, and Eric shifts slightly. We've been lying in bed for the past few hours — well, he's been sitting upright watching some sort of murder mystery documentary and I've been lying with my head in his lap.

"Tasty," he answers, not really paying attention to me at all. He's been far too fixated on the show on the screen, but I found it to be beyond boring. It's mostly people talking about a murder from long ago, offering up their opinions and speculations. Eric clearly found it riveting, because he probably doesn't even realize that he just referred to his own child as delicious. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. Really good, actually."

I flip to the next page of the book, reading about how much weight I should be gaining. Eric's fingers are in my hair, his thumb stroking in a circular motion over my temple, and the feeling is enough to make me want to close my eyes. Eventually the sensation wins out, and I set the book down beside me. It's one of the books that Daniel gave me, and it's less clinical than some of the others. It actually has some fun information in it, which was the main reason I picked it up.

"I'm not quite as tired," I point out, except that my words are clearly a lie because my eyes are slipping shut. "Tris still feels really crappy. She told me she threw up the other day because Kacie brought in some sort of weird dinner."

Eric snorts, still stroking my hair. "I'm glad you aren't sick like that."

"Me too."

He moves his hand a bit, dragging his nails across my scalp. "Did you read through the papers Max gave you?"

I nod my head against his thigh, and I yawn. "I did. I sent him an email to see if he can meet with me on Friday."

"Did you decide what position you're taking?" His words are warm and rich, and I can tell he doesn't really care so long as it isn't one that puts me in any sort of harm's way.

"I want to start with the ambassadorship, then work my way into leadership. I figure eventually someone will die and I can take their place. Harrison's old, right? He can't live forever."

Eric laughs loudly, shifting a tiny bit. I smile even though I'm not looking at him, and I move my head back closer to him, hoping he'll get the hint and keep touching my hair.

He does.

"I'm going to tell Max that Four should be the one to take the leadership position. I think he'd be a good fit for it." I say the words quietly, waiting for him to leap off the bed in a fit of rage. But he stays quiet, twirling my hair around his finger.

"You really think Four wants the position? He's been asked before," Eric replies. "He's turned it down a few times." He manages to sound uninterested, and he pulls on my hair for a moment, tugging on the long strands until it hurts in a good way. "He'll probably just turn it down again."

I nod against his leg. "I'm going to talk to him. I think maybe he'll view it differently now."

"Why now?" Eric asks, his continued questions and his sharper tone both betraying his earlier feigned disinterest. "What's so different now that number boy might want to step up into a big boy position? You think he's grown tired of training the initiates?" I know he's thinking I know something he doesn't, and in a way, I do. I know that Four might be open to taking the position, even if he doesn't realize it yet. But I also know he can bring more to the table than just training skills. He's rational and smart, and slightly more levelheaded than Eric. The two of them might just work well together if they could get past their aversion to one another.

"I think he'll understand that things are different now," I point out, settling back against him. "I'm sure he's changed since they first asked him to take the job. He knows a lot about what's going on. More than me."

Eric doesn't say anything for a long time. The silence isn't unusual from him, and I know he's thinking about what I said. I feel his fingers work through my hair, grazing over my ear before he speaks.

"And who's going to convince Four of this? You?"

I nod again, turning my head up to look at him. Eric is peering down at me, his eyes narrowed and a slight sneer on his face. It's not a mean expression, though. It's one that tells me he finds this whole discussion hilarious. "You really think you're going to convince him to take the job, Amity?"

I jut my chin out, and smile widely. "I don't foresee it being a problem at all. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

Eric lets out a huff of laughter, then he smiles down at me, wide enough that I can see his perfectly straight teeth. "You let me know how that goes."

And just like that, he goes back to his murder mystery and I fall asleep thinking about just how my discussion with Four will go.

 

 

It goes poorly.

Really horribly, in fact.

I should have waited, at least until Four had ingested some coffee or breakfast. Or had woken up properly. Instead, I'd gotten up early and bumped into him on his way to the cafeteria, grabbing his arm and ignoring the sharp look on his face. I'd hastily dragged him towards the muffins, shoving a few onto a plate for him, before brightly telling him I thought he should apply for the open position.

He glares at me, the same way I imagine he would glare at Eric if he had been the one to suggest it.

"No thanks," he snaps, his tone flat and tight. "I'm not interested in that."

I'm prepared for his refusal, so I ignore his words.

"Four, just listen to me. I think it would be great for you. I mean, it's the perfect timing with everything going on. You can't tell me that you want to just train initiates forever," I point out, reaching to grab a glass of orange juice. Four continues glaring, and he shakes his head furiously.

"There's nothing wrong with what I do. Didn't you also pick that job? I seem to recall you working alongside me," Four retorts, grabbing his own drink. He still looks half asleep, but now very annoyed.

"I did. And I love it. It's the first thing in Dauntless that has felt like my own. And as your favorite coworker, shouldn't you want to move on to the next thing with me? I'll be taking the same position after a while. It's not like you'll be there on your own."

He walks ahead of me, still polite enough to not leave me by myself, but far enough ahead for me to get the hint that he isn't enjoying this conversation.

"Look, you know a lot about Dauntless. You know everyone here. I don't. Half the faction still thinks I'm just Eric's wife, and the other half thought I was dead for a long time. I'm not the right person to take a position, especially not one that people will think was handed to me."

"So you want me to take it?" Four interrupts, and he sets his tray down a little too loudly on a table. I sit down beside him, and he shakes his head. "What makes you think I agree with anything going on between the leaders? Why would I want to be involved in any of that?"

"You have good ideas. They need someone levelheaded, someone that isn't already swayed to one side. Half the leaders side with Eric, and the other half side with Max. You could bring some balance to the group."

He stares at me, still not touching either of the muffins I set on his plate. The alarm goes off on my phone, and when I glance down to turn it off I realize I don't have very long left before I need to be in the office.

"You can't be afraid to do it. This is something you'd be perfect for. You should take the position," I urge him, making sure I'm looking right at him. He's not as tall as Eric, nor is he as intimidating-looking, but right now he's glaring at me with a very Eric-like expression on his face.

Four exhales sharply, and presses his lips together tightly.

"Everly, I told you no. I don't want that job. I'm good with what I'm doing."

"But why?" I pry, not moving an inch. He glowers down at me, shaking his head in exasperation. "What are you so afraid of? Is it because Eric—"

"You think I'm afraid?" Four cuts me off, and he crosses his arms over his chest, now looking a whole lot like Eric. "You think I don't want to take the next leadership position because I'm scared? Of what? Sitting beside Eric during the meetings?"

"I know you guys don't exactly love each other. But he knows that you are the best candidate for this. Not me. Not yet," I reassure him, but my words do little to help the situation. Four only grows more irritated, his face darkening.

"I'm not afraid of him, Everly," Four answers hotly. "I just have no desire to sit around and watch him continue to do whatever he pleases."

"Then take the position. You have a reasonable point of view. Bring some balance to the leadership team. You and I have talked about the changes we could make here. If you were there, too, maybe they could happen." I try not to sound defeated. I keep my eyes on him, unwilling to let him pass this up.

But my words fall on deaf ears.

Four stands up and shoves past me without another word.

 

 

Somehow, the news of my conversation with Four gets back to Eric before I have a chance to say anything. That, or he can tell from my aversion to the subject.

"I take it your chat didn't go well?" Eric asks me, his tone bordering on pure glee, and I scowl at him from my side of the bed. I'd headed to bed before him, hoping I'd fall asleep before he could really question me about my talk with Four. As soon as I felt the bed shift under his weight, I knew I had no chance of getting out of this. But I wasn't about to admit defeat, not yet.

"He didn't give me an answer just yet," I throw out, pretending not to really notice Eric's presence beside me. It's easier to say all this when I'm not looking at him. It's not that I'm lying, because I know that Four's 'no' didn't really mean 'no'. "He's still considering it."

"Oh, is he?" Eric raises both eyebrows at me in mock surprise. "And just how long does he need? A day? A week? A month?"

"He had to leave before we could really get into the details," I answer, leaving out the part where Four stormed out of the cafeteria. "But I think he just needs a day to think it over," I tell him confidently, and from beside me, Eric snorts.

"Right," he scoffs.

I ignore him, instead focusing on my knees. I'm lying down with my feet flat on the mattress, and I smooth out the fabric on the end of my nightgown. "I think he'll take it. He doesn't really have a good reason not to."

Eric snorts again, shifting his weight so he's lying on his side, facing me.

"It's so cute when you're in complete denial," he murmurs, and I glare at him out of the corner of my eye. "You think he and his high moral standards would leap at the chance to oversee a faction."

He reaches one of his hands out toward me, bypassing my arm and reaching over to press his palm over my stomach. If he's looking for something exciting, he isn't going to find it. I was a little disappointed to find that I still looked exactly the same, despite being further along than I'd thought. So far my pregnancy had been nothing more than a giant nap, taken mostly on top of Eric.

"He said he'll think about it," I remind him, and Eric snorts again.

"I'm sure he will," he agrees, feigning enthusiasm, his palm warm on my stomach. "I mean, it's a pretty tough decision when the control room is just so exciting."

He pauses, waiting for me to say something. I finally turn to look at him, taking in the sight of his bare chest and the mean smile on his face.

"Eric," I say his name in warning, and his expression softens to something less villainous.

"He takes it or he doesn't. I don't really fucking care," Eric throws out, and he moves closer to me. His hand is warm over my stomach, and he looks down at me. "I figured he'd want something better for himself before Tris has his baby, but I guess not."

"If it's not Four, who do you think it'll be?" I ask, focusing my gaze on my bare knees. My nightgown has fallen down, pooling around my thighs. "Is there anyone else you have in mind?"

Eric shakes his head. He's now close enough that his chest is pressed up against my arm, and his legs are bent to touch mine. "No one." He moves his hand off my stomach, moving it to turn my face towards him, before sliding his fingers into my hair. "What is he having?"

"What? What do you mean?" I look up at him in confusion and he smiles slowly.

"Are he and Tris having a boy or a girl?"

I'm not sure where his sudden interest in Four's baby comes from, but it's amusing to me on a few levels. I smile back, reaching up to grasp the back of his head.

"He's having a boy," I answer him, and I watch as he exhales sharply. "Christina told me."

Eric has a funny look on his face, and I try to figure out just what's going through his mind. I suddenly wonder if he wants a son, or if he's just trying to figure out how Four's child might rank against his own.

"Why? Does it matter?" I ask, and he lowers his head until his forehead touches mine.

"Yes," he answers sharply. "Our baby is never to meet his, ever."

"Eric," I protest, trying hard not to laugh. "That's impossible. Tris and I are friends, and she's not that much further along than I am. Our kids might be in the same classes together."

"No."

He slides over me, placing one knee on each side of my legs, and he swallows thickly. "They won't. They'll never be friends, so just get that out of your mind right now, Amity. Not so long as I'm alive."

He ends his threat by kissing me, so slowly and teasingly that I forget all about his strange reaction. I have half a mind to ask him about the promise I blindly agreed to, but I can't think about that because he takes his boxer briefs off a moment later.

"Never," he warns, tossing them to the side of the bed. He doesn't catch my eye roll, and I promise myself I won't agree to anything he asks for the rest of the night. "His son comes nowhere near our baby."

It's right then and there, as he yanks my nightgown up and over my head, that I decide our baby is a boy.


	54. Blythe Coulter and Stuffed Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience!! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and an awesome New Year!
> 
> Thanks to BK2U for editing!

I rewrite my email for the sixth time.

It feels desperately wrong to be emailing my mother. In fact, I have no reason to believe that she'll actually even read the message. I only know she even has her first email address because we received word from Cara that all medical practitioners are now required to be on the registry of medical professionals. She sent out a list to all faction leaders informing us that now, more than ever, it was important to be aware of everyone in the medical field. My mother hardly falls into the definition of health care provider, but her name was still included on the list — Eden Carlen, with the title of Naturopath.

I'm sure she hates it. She doesn't have a computer, and she probably has little interest in owning one and checking messages every day. It isn't in her nature to sit and stare at a screen, let alone respond to what's sent to her. This whole registry idea stemmed from whatever Daniel had been working on, and while I understood the need to have a cohesive list, I knew he'd never get my mother on board.

But I'd wanted to talk to her for some time now, and I hadn't had a single chance. I'd had training to finish in Dauntless and no real downtime on the horizon. I could maybe convince Eric to accompany me to Amity, though it wouldn't be an easy battle. He'd cite Evelyn's name, then maybe remind me that I promised him a few things I couldn't remember, and then smirk before eventually caving in — if I caught him at the right moment.

He's gone right now, out with Karl and Harrison on some manhunt I declined to go on with him. Normally, I'd jump at the chance to be outside of Dauntless, but they had seemed really thrilled to be heading out together, loudly discussing their not-so-secret plans with a great amount of enthusiasm. They were far too loud for such an early hour, and more discouragingly, if I went with them, I also would have had to put a uniform on. Instead, I decided to use this quiet time for myself, so I kissed Eric goodbye, opted not to change out of my pajamas, sat on the couch, and opened my laptop. I figured I could at least say hello to my mother, testing the waters to see if she'd respond.

I make up my mind that this is my final version. I write that I miss her, and that I'm hoping to see her soon. I mention that I'll be taking a new position in Dauntless, and there's some news I'd like to share with her when I can next see her in person. I can't bring myself to inform her I'm pregnant via email, but I try to hint at it so she won't feel blindsided. Before I hit send, I feel a spark of nervousness that maybe I shouldn't be sending this sort of information via a message that could be intercepted, but I squash down the paranoia quickly.

Once it's sent, I lean back, shutting the laptop so I can't spend the next hour waiting for her to respond. The apartment is quiet, and I close my eyes, deciding to go back to sleep.

 

 

By noon, I feel pretty good.

The day is something to celebrate because it's been incredibly productive. Everything I've accomplished is just one more thing to check off on my to do list before I formally accept my new position in Dauntless. It feels like everything is falling into place at just the right time.

After a quick lunch with Eric, I head to the control room. It feels a little bittersweet as I scan my card to open the doors. Today I'm scheduled to finish up a final shift with Kacie, and all I need is her signature and I'll be done with my control room training. When the door opens, I notice the room is busy, noisy with chatter, and I catch sight of Jason sitting with Four.

"What up, girl?" he calls out happily while Four ignores me altogether.

I ignore him back. I know he still needs time to think about our talk, and I'll have a better chance of getting him to say yes if I don't bother him. By now, he's pretty easy for me to read. The tight expression on his face and the none-too-subtle way he glances over at me tell me he's expecting me to ambush him again.

Instead, I say a quick hello to Jason before I take a seat by Kacie, coffee in hand, and prepare for the next few hours to fly by.

I don't know why I'm surprised when I realize I could willingly murder Kacie by the end of the first hour.

Maybe it was the extra hours she'd been working. Or maybe she felt the same pressure as everyone else to finally find Evelyn, or at the very least, something related to Evelyn. But whatever the cause, she's almost immediately irritable, her whole body screaming annoyance. She spent the first thirty minutes acting as though I'd never set foot in the control room and the next thirty minutes staring at me while I flipped through the screens. She finally leans in, looking down her nose at me, and tells me she heard that Eric and I were having a baby.

"Is it true?" she asks me, looking me up and down for physical evidence of a pregnancy. "I mean, we all thought you'd get knocked up eventually, but now seems like a really shitty time." She pauses, raising an eyebrow at me as well as the blank expression on my face.

"I just mean that you don't even have an official position here yet. I'd hate for people to think that you get to stick around here, with all your privileges, just because you married Eric." She says the words with fake empathy, as though she's honestly worried about other people's opinions of me, and I have to bite the side of my cheek to keep from throwing my coffee at her.

Because that would be a waste.

Plus, I've never been a truly violent person. I spent a lot of time in Amity fighting down any sort of angry reactions on my own, but I learned ways to deal with them. I skipped a lot of the peace serum, choosing to experience life while actually feeling things. I'd found little benefit in being drugged to only feel happy; life was far better that way, even if not every little thing felt good.

And while it wasn't always easy and it wasn't always pleasant, I'd learned that a lot of the time, keeping those shitty feelings in did more harm than good. Especially in a faction like Dauntless. There really was no reason for me to keep my mouth shut, especially when I had a position waiting for me, one that was far more important than sitting and watching a computer screen all day.

"After all the time I've been here, do you really think that's why I married Eric? Just so I could stay here and use his point card?" I ask politely, as I lean back in my chair and tilt my head at her. "Did you miss that meeting where our rankings were posted? Or did you forget I had harder training than anyone else? Nothing here has been handed to me. It's a little rude for you to even think that."

I can tell she wasn't expecting my response because Kacie stares at me, blinking her blue eyes a few times. My words sound kind enough that she can't possibly react poorly, even though I know they aren't what she wanted to hear. She wants an argument or something rude from me so she can feel justified in her thinking.

I don't give in. I keep my eyes on the screen in front of me, noticing there is almost nothing of any interest going on, and I give her a full minute before I turn back to her.

"And no offense, Kacie, but you aren't even on my list of people who should know if Eric and I are having a baby." I take a long sip of my coffee, forcing myself to calm down. I remind myself she's always been nosey, and now is no exception. With the heightened security issues, and with Evelyn looming on the horizon, it's easy for her to use Eric and me as a distraction.

Kacie's mouth falls open and she fumbles for a second, surprised at my response. "No, wait, Everly, I just meant…"

I cut her off. "It's all good. But you know what? Rather than you and I sitting here, pretending to be civil for the next few hours, why don't you sign off on my form that says I was here all day, and you and I will part ways pretending this never happened. I think we both know I've learned everything I can here."

Kacie stares at me wordlessly. I can tell she's mentally weighing her options. She knows that I could very well turn around and relay exactly what she said to Eric, which would probably result in some kind of shit storm. She also knows that even my position in a training class ranks me higher than her. So I wait patiently, the same way Eric would have sat and stared had I uttered something so stupid to him. It seems like a long time passes before she finally nods and motions for my paper.

"I'll sign it. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to…"

"Thank you." I hand her my papers, watching her scrawl her initials next to the bottom portion. She leaves the score part blank, and I have to give her credit for not being a complete moron and attempting to write something there. She hands it back to me hesitantly, and opens her mouth again as I stand up.

"Everly…"

"I'll see you around," I tell her, not bothering to give her another second of my time. I walk past Jason who has clearly been listening, and he reaches out to high five me. He smiles at me, and I know he would have leapt to my defense had anything really gone down. I walk out without ever looking at Four. I can feel his stare on me, and I can almost see the frown on his face, but I'm too busy thinking about how I'll explain to Eric that I just walked out on part of my training.

 

Turns out, he doesn't care.

He looks venomous when I fill him in on what happened with Kacie, but it tapers down when I explain that I handled it.

"You're sure?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. He looks ready to kill, his shoulders pulled taut and his spine straightened stiffly. "You don't want me to go in there and…"

"I think she got the hint that she was out of line. I think she's stressed out. It seems like everyone is," I tell him, letting my fingers trail over his desk. It's strewn with books and papers, reminding me that he was actually in the middle of working. "Plus, you said I could always ask you if I needed help with anything, and I figured you know the computers better than her. I wasn't going to learn anything else by sitting there and fending off her questions."

He leans back in his desk chair, widening his legs a bit, and smiles up at me.

"Okay," he answers casually, all the threat gone from his body. He motions for me to come over to him, his grey eyes considerably lighter now. "I'll sign off on whatever you need. You've had enough control room training anyway."

"I agree," I answer, maneuvering around the desk and stopping right between his legs. I hand him the papers Kacie gave me, and he takes them without looking, then tosses them onto the mess on his desk.

"How late are you working today?" I ask him, watching the way he reaches for me, his hands grasping my hips to pull me forward. I sit down, balancing myself on his leg, and he smirks.

"Until five," he answers offhandedly, and I turn and lean back into him. He feels solid behind me, and I close my eyes, letting myself enjoy the feeling of sitting here with him, my calves resting against his shins. The two of us sit in comfortable silence; Eric toys with the sleeve of my shirt, and I close my eyes.

"I'm proud of you, Everly."

He offers the words up out of nowhere, and the feeling that washes over me is indescribable.

 

The boxes arrive that night.

The Dauntless guard makes me sign for them, then offers to carry them in so I don't have to. He sets everything on our dining room table, then throws out a cheerful farewell before quickly departing. I have half a mind to open them up, but they aren't for me. In fact, the guard asked for Eric several times before giving up and accepting I was the only one home. But now they sit right in front of me, both tempting and ominous.

Before curiosity can get the better of me, the front door opens and Eric storms through it. He's got several papers in his hands, and the annoyed look on his face only increases when he sees what I'm looking at.

"Where did those come from?" he asks, setting the files on the counter. He takes off his jacket and slings it over his arm, his gaze sharply trained on the table.

"They were just dropped off. Were you expecting a delivery?" I walk back over to them, carefully inspecting the boxes. There are four of them, each one fairly large in size, all addressed to Mr. Eric Coulter.

He eyes them warily, stepping closer to investigate. He grimaces when we both notice the Erudite logo stamped above the label. It's clear they are meant only for him, and my stomach drops when, upon further inspection, I see the return label with his mother's name on it.

"You open them."

He tosses the words out as he walks by the table without another glance, his boots heavy as he heads towards our bedroom, jacket in hand.

He doesn't have to ask twice, though my interest is slightly diminished by the fact that his mother has shipped something here. I grab a knife from the drawer, and neatly slice through the packing tape on the box closest to me.

To my surprise, the box is full of baby clothes.

I gingerly pull them out, one by one. There are all sorts of outfits: pajamas, dresses, tiny slacks and button-down shirts. The royal blue and white fabrics are all so stiff and uncomfortable that I can't even imagine trying to put them on a newborn. They all seem rather uptight, especially for a baby, not to mention the fact that they look like nothing Eric or I would ever dress our child in.

I suddenly wonder if I'm being ungrateful.

For a moment I stand there, trying to see things from another perspective. Maybe this is Blythe's way of apologizing. Maybe she's finally come to terms with just how shitty she's been, finally realizing that one day soon her grandchild will be born and that maybe she'll want to meet him, especially if he's dressed in what appears to be a very tiny outfit more suited for Erudite.

I suddenly feel less resentful of Blythe and almost empathetic towards her. Maybe Daniel leaving her was just what she needed to realize she's been a terrible person. This could very well be her way of trying to smooth things over — with some strange, expensive, and not quite comfortable peace offering.

My positive attitude vanishes when I open up the second box and pull out the top item.

It's a certificate, one announcing Eric's advanced superiority in his twelfth year of academia. The box has award after award, letters of recognition, plaques and quite a few trophies in it. At the bottom of the second box is a note, written in very sharp and elegant handwriting:

Eric,

I had the maids clean out anything that was left behind by your father. I can only assume you'd like to keep these. They have no further place here. The baby clothes are gifts from my staff. I told them not to expect your thanks, but I will pass them along regardless, as is courteous.

Your father overlooked a few things. I know he's unable to tear himself away from you and your wife, so I've sent them along with your packages. Forward them on when you see him next.

Blythe

I blink a few times, trying to make sure I'm reading it correctly.

Not only has she apparently sent over everything she ever kept from Eric's childhood, though it appears limited to just mementos of his academic achievements, she also sent along things for his father, despite the fact that he resides in the very same faction as her. She could have easily sent them directly to Daniel, or even to the hospital if she didn't know his new address. But instead, she spitefully chose to send them here.

I open up the third box to find the things that must belong to Daniel: a day planner, a few newsletters with the Erudite logo on them, several laptops, fancy pens, new-looking blue ties, and a few dress shirts, which all sit atop a collection of medical reference books. I close that box immediately; I try not to allow myself to grow too angry, but my blood is boiling.

"What is it? Everly, did you open them?" Eric yells out, still busy with whatever it is he's doing in the bedroom. I try to calm myself down, wondering if this will bother him as much as it does me.

"Yeah. It's…it's a bunch of your old stuff. Your mom sent it over, along with some baby clothes from her staff and some things for your dad."

I open the fourth box to find more baby clothes and what appears to be a well-loved stuffed dog. I pick it up, gently touching the soft, black fur and turning it over in my hand. It's not brand new, and I can only imagine it must have belonged to Eric. I'm still holding it when he walks back over to the table. His eyes fall to the dog in my hands, and I swear he stiffens the slightest bit.

"Blythe sent all this?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah," I answer, shrugging at the boxes in front of me. "But why would she send all this here? She didn't want to keep it?"

Eric gives me a funny look, and he pulls out an award for a science fair project crowning him reigning supreme leader of all that is science. "I'm surprised she kept this much."

"Is this yours?" I peer up at him, and he stares at the animal in my hands like it's a foreign creature. "He was in the box."

"He?" Eric raises an eyebrow at me, and I extend the dog towards him. He stares at me as though I've offered him something incredibly offensive before reluctantly taking the stuffed animal from me.

"It looks like a boy," I tell him, smiling at the sight of Eric with the toy in his hand.

I suddenly wonder if Eric ever had a pet. Pets are rare these days, but I had known a few people who had dogs. Amity had some, mostly strays that ran in and out of the fields. They knew the small children would feed them, and they quickly learned to follow them around during snack time, eating whatever was dropped or that they were gleefully fed. None of them really wanted to stick around, though, unless it was winter. It was easy to find several hiding out with the horses, always friendly enough when someone offered them food. If the animal were young enough, it was possible to lure it in and take it home permanently.

"It looks like you liked him," I point out, and Eric exhales heavily as he sets the worn dog onto the table. "There were dogs in Amity. I never had one, but I've fed one before."

"I didn't have a dog, Everly. You really think Blythe would have wanted something that could potentially shit on her white carpet?"

"Was your house too fancy to have a pet?" I ask.

I never went to Eric's parents' house, but judging from the way this conversation is going, it wasn't a place I would have ever wanted to visit. My parents wouldn't have cared about pets at all. I can still remember my father tripping over a chicken someone had brought inside, claiming the creature would prefer to sleep in the kitchen. He'd laughed, shooed it away, and cheerfully reminded my mother to feed it breakfast.

I can't imagine Blythe feeding a chicken, let alone allowing one to walk through her home.

Eric sighs heavily, his eyes blinking tightly. "I wouldn't worry about it, Everly."

His words make me feel a little bit sad for him. I'd grown up in a chaotic house that was always too full of people, and there was always some mess to clean up or kick out of the way. But it had been home, the same way this is now home. Our apartment might not have people spilling in and out of every room, but it feels like Eric and I live here... together. It's perpetually cold, but still inviting. Judging from his reaction, I get the feeling that Blythe and Daniel's home was rather uninviting.

Before I can say anything, Eric swallows and glances at the dog once more. "Blythe would never have bought that. I had a nanny for most of my life. She gave me the dog one year." He shrugs and then meets my curious stare. "And before you ask, I don't know what happened to her. I can only imagine she was fired by Blythe at some point and went on to work for another family. There's big money in raising other people's children."

I frown at him, unable to look away. Sometimes I feel that the more I find out about him, the more I just want to drag him into the bedroom and remind him that I love him, remind him that he deserves more than being raised by a stranger who gave him this stuffed creature, and remind him that he deserves more than having his childhood things sent to him in a fit of rage.

"Eric..." I start to say his name, but he cuts me off abruptly.

"Rylan and Christina are coming over. Do you want to eat here or go out? I can make dinner or we can go to Clyde's."

"Eat here," I tell him, knowing he prefers to eat the food he enjoys cooking. Not to mention, there's also the fact that the last time we ate at Clyde's, I felt a little queasy after a few too many greasy fries. "Want me to help you cook?"

Eric smirks. For the first time since he got home he looks relaxed, as though what's left of his childhood isn't sitting on our kitchen table. "I'm not really in the mood to put out any fires tonight, so why don't you just go relax? I can always call you if I need help."

I smile at him, waiting until he has turned around before I reach for the stuffed dog, carrying him into the bedroom with me.

 

"Fuck your life."

Rylan takes a large swallow of whatever dark and strong-smelling beverage Eric served him. Eric is drinking the same thing, and so is Christina. I'm the only one with water, but it doesn't bother me in the slightest. They are all cheerfully joking, and I'm trying to follow along, but my mind is elsewhere.

"Harrison told me he wanted to meet with you to talk about some plans he's come up with. He said he would only need two or three hours," Rylan loudly reminds him with a laugh, and I shudder at the thought of spending three hours in a meeting room going over battle plans.

Eric rolls his eyes, the action the most polite response he can conjure up. "He's got a lot of experience, so there were a few worthwhile things. But I cut the meeting short after an hour. I'd heard enough."

Our dinner is going really well. I'm thrilled that my friend is here, and even Rylan hugged me when he walked in, congratulating me happily. He seemed genuinely excited that his friend was about to have a baby, and I watched him side eye Christina when I thanked him.

Eric made steaks for dinner, and I'd gratefully sat down, starved after putting away everything Blythe had sent over. It still bothered me that she was able to so easily rid her life of Eric. Even though I knew there would be no chance of her ever accepting Eric and me, I'd still held onto the hope that she might attempt to be civil for her grandchild's sake. But her message today was loud and clear: Daniel had left her, Eric had chosen me, and she felt wronged by us all. Oddly enough, even though everything I wanted to have happen did, it didn't feel great, and I certainly didn't feel like I'd won any victory.

But I did feel a tiny bit victorious when I shoved the hideous baby clothes into the furthest corner of the closet. I couldn't bring myself to think about putting them on our child, and I didn't even need to ask to know Eric wouldn't care if I never used them.

"Everly, are you alright? Do you want more salad?"

I glance up at Eric, realizing I've been staring at my plate for the past few minutes. Everyone is focused on me with looks of concern, and I shake my head.

"I'm fine." I smile at him, stabbing the salad with my fork. Everyone stares at me as though they don't quite believe me. "I was just thinking about your mom."

Eric frowns at my words, his eyes narrowing in annoyance at the very mention of Blythe.

Rylan looks over to him and his gaze sharpens. "What did Blythe do now? Did she finally offer up her congratulations on the baby? Try to smooth things over?"

Next to me, I can hear Eric sigh heavily, and I can tell he's thinking about what she sent over. It can't feel good to be on the receiving end of your mother's hatred, and not even Eric is entirely immune to that.

"Did she call you?" Rylan asks carefully, and I realize he probably knows a bit more about Eric's mom than probably anyone other than me. "To talk about the baby?"

Eric leans back in his seat, and he takes a long sip of whatever it is they are drinking, fiddling with the glass for a moment before he shakes his head no. "Daniel left her. He moved out and she had someone clean out the house. Sent a few boxes of my stuff, along with some baby clothes and things Daniel left behind. Everly didn't like that she only kept my awards from school. Blythe figured I'd want them back, so she shipped them here."

Rylan looks at me for a moment and frowns in confusion. "Whoa, wait, your dad left Blythe?"

Eric nods, his gaze still on his glass. "He told us last time he was here. He finally got sick of her shit."

"Thanks for telling me," Rylan mutters, looking insulted.

Eric glances up at him, and while he can see the upset look on his friend's face, he shrugs it off with indifference. "We just found out. I didn't see any reason to broadcast it to the entire faction."

Rylan ignores his caustic comment, settling back against his own chair. "Daniel's good, though, right?"

"He seems fine. Relieved it's over."

"So, Blythe wasn't great with this and blamed you and Everly?" Rylan glances at Christina before taking a gulp of his drink.

"Of course she isn't good with it. Her husband just left her and she assumes we had a hand in it. She's not going to take it lying down," Eric snaps, setting his fork down with a loud clank. "She'll still try to make his life miserable any way she can."

Beside me, Christina is strangely silent for once. She watches Eric with large eyes, her attention totally fixed on him. I bet during her own training she never once imagined she'd be hearing about his personal life, especially not like this.

"So, it bothers you that she sent ugly baby clothes and Eric's trophies for Best Mathlete?" Rylan is looking at the both of us, but he turns back to me. "You know, Eric was pretty much the king of math."

This isn't surprising news to me at all, so I just sort of smile. "I saw that."

Rylan stares at me, his mind whirling. "So, what's really wrong? You're upset that she sent over Eric's old math homework?"

I nod my head. "It bothered me that those things were all she saved out of everything he'd ever done. There was nothing personal in there. It was all schoolwork. I would have thought she'd have saved other things…"

Beside me, Eric snorts, shaking his head at the very idea. "Why on Earth would she keep anything personal? Anything of the sort would have been trash to her."

His words make me shrink back in my seat a bit. I know for a fact that my mother and father kept all sorts of stuff from my childhood, and not just to pass it along. My mother had kept a few of my first toys, baby clothes, and even tons of pictures I'd colored for her, no matter how terrible they were.

Rylan notices, and he looks suddenly sympathetic. "Don't take it so personal. You know she's not a nice woman, Everly. Eric said you've met her at her worst."

I chew my salad a few more times than necessary, pretending I'm crushing Blythe's head between my teeth. "I did. She said some really mean things to me. I guess I just thought maybe she'd… I don't know, be less hateful now."

"Because of the baby?" Rylan asks, and I notice Eric is now cutting his steak forcefully, as though it has personally wronged him.

I nod my head. "I mean, he's her grandchild. And she didn't send us clothes, they were from her staff."

"Wait, he?" Rylan turns to look at Eric, and his face breaks into a wide smile. "No shit, I didn't know you were having-"

"Blythe will never care about anyone other than herself. I can guarantee you this isn't the last time any of us will hear from her. She mailed all that shit to be petty. She knew what she was doing." Eric ignores Rylan completely, and instead turns towards me, his gaze sharp and direct. He smiles tightly, then reaches over to touch my knee. "Don't waste another second thinking about her. I spent my entire life learning how to play her games."

He squeezes my knee, and when I look up, he looks serious again. "Everly, she's not anyone you'd even want around. I know what you're thinking, and while the idea is nice, seeing her grandchild isn't going to make her any less bitter. This isn't about you, and it never has been. You can't save the world."

I feel a little bit better at his words, and I smile up at him. "Thank you. At least Daniel will be around. He can come see him."

"Your old man's excited about the baby? He seems like he'd be the type who would be," Rylan interjects, pausing to wink at Christina. "Eric's dad has always been better with children. He used to try to get Eric to go outside and play with the neighborhood kids. Something about creative play stimulating the neurons."

Eric rolls his eyes again, and he seems slightly less annoyed now. "Funny, but there weren't any kids, in case you've forgotten. Our nearest neighbor was a good mile away. Blythe didn't like anyone living too close to her."

"Where did you live? At the edge of Erudite?" Christina asks, setting her drink down. "You didn't live in the city?"

Eric stares at her for a moment, and I can tell he's mentally debating whether or not she deserves an answer to her question. I'm happy when he finally nods his head, deciding she does.

"Half an hour drive from the heart of Erudite. It's an exclusive neighborhood. Blythe doesn't even belong in it now that she's not married to Daniel."

"Will she have to move?" I ask, taking a bite of steak. I wonder what that would be like, for her to be forced to relocate to a less desirable location. I can imagine her recoiling in horror at the idea of mingling amongst the commoners of Erudite.

But Eric shakes his head before taking his hand off my knee. "No. She can stay where she is. Not unless Daniel pushed for her to be moved, but he won't. I think he's done with her just as much as we are."

His words hold a note of finality. After that, the conversation takes a much lighter turn. Before long, Christina is passing out the cupcakes she brought along with her — ones that spell out congratulations — and I spend the rest of my night in a chocolate-induced haze, listening to them discuss Jason and Megan's latest argument.

 

"Your boobs look a lot bigger, by the way. I meant to tell you earlier, but I got distracted by the sight of Eric cooking dinner."

Christina whispers the words as she hugs me goodbye, causing me to snort in her ear. I break away from her, but she holds on to my elbows, grinning at me widely. "Can we do dinner next week? You, me and Tris? Before the wedding?"

"That would be perfect," I answer her, and she beams at me, pleased as ever. Beside us, Rylan is saying goodbye to Eric. They talk quietly for a moment, and I watch as Rylan reaches out and gingerly pats Eric on the shoulder in the most manly way possible. Eric nods at him before looking back at me with a funny expression on his face.

"Goodnight, Everly. I'll see you soon. I'll text you about dinner," Christina promises, finally letting go of me. She walks over to Rylan, taking his hand in hers and waving at Eric.

"Bye!" I call out, watching as they let themselves out through the door. Though I greatly enjoyed my friends' company, I was relieved when she mentioned they both had to work early in the morning. This afternoon left me feeling out of sorts, and while I feel better now, I am exhausted. Eric locks the apartment door, and together we walk to the bedroom. He flicks on the light on his nightstand and the room is suddenly illuminated with warmth; our bed has never looked more inviting.

"What time do you need to be up tomorrow?" When I look over at him, Eric is busy fidgeting with his phone, working on setting an alarm for the two of us. He cocks an eyebrow at me, waiting patiently to see if I remember my schedule.

"I told Harrison I'd meet him at nine. I know you just had your meeting with him, but I have to complete the battle planning section of my training, and you said he knows what he's doing."

A very amused expression flashes across his face. "I'm sure you'll love it." He smirks, his lips curling up cruelly. "You could be there all day."

I purse my lips, immediately wondering if I should have signed up under Max or even Tori. Harrison had seemed like the best choice. I'd been spoiled by learning from Eric, and I'd continued to want to learn from the best, though hours of battle strategy did not sound like anything I really wanted to sit through. But I don't want Eric to think I'm not committed to pushing through to the end, so I smile at him and search the drawers for my nightgown.

"Sounds great." I feign enthusiasm. "Maybe you can come by and sit in on it. See how it goes. You know, stop him after a few hours."

"I'll think about it," Eric offers up, sounding like he's about to do the exact opposite of that. "I'll be back." He then stalks off to brush his teeth, and I know he's certainly not going to think about a way to get me out of this final part of my training.

"Great," I mutter out loud, probably for the millionth time since I've come to Dauntless.

Fifteen minutes later, I watch as Eric pulls the shirt off over his head. His eyes rake over me, then fall to his bed as he shoves the covers back.

"You feeling alright, Everly?"

My cheeks grow warm.

Eric's new habit of expressing his concern out loud is adorable to me because it's so out of the norm for him. Fortunately, he's backed off on the obsessive behaviors, no longer monitoring my every move or demanding to know what I'm doing every second of the day. What's left is plain and honest worry about me, something that comes from a very deep place inside of him.

I admit I like it; it shows that he has gotten to a place in his life where he can let his guard down, even though I've already been a part of his life for a few years now. If he were anyone else, it would have been excruciating to move at such a snail's pace. But this is Eric, and I take his worry as major progress.

"When's your next appointment again?"

I pull the covers back on my side of the bed, happy to slip into cold, clean sheets. "I feel fine, I'm just tired. And my appointment is in a few days. You're coming, right?"

He slides into bed beside me, pausing only to turn the light on his nightstand off. It's mere seconds later that I turn into him, settling against his chest in what's now the way I sleep every night. I feel far safer in his arms — I always have.

His fingers graze my temples, then slide into my hair.

"Of course I'll be there," he answers huffily.

"Good."

I'm too tired to keep my eyes open, and his fingers in my hair don't help at all. He runs them through the strands until they tangle and simply can't go any further, then back behind my ear. The feeling is intoxicating, even more so when his nails scrape against my scalp.

"Goodnight, Everly."

He says the words quietly, turning himself fractionally closer to me. He slides one leg between mine, settling himself until he's comfortable.

I can tell his mind is far away, so far away that he didn't even notice the stuffed dog on his nightstand.

 

"The best vantage point is typically a high vantage point — though not necessarily the highest point —because it offers our soldiers cover and concealment, fewer obstructions for clearer communications, the best arc of observation, and an unobstructed line of fire with greater range. It presents a tactical advantage in terms of battle position; it's harder to mount an attack going uphill, shots fired upward by the enemy will tend to overshoot, and gravity will work to our soldiers' advantage if they're shooting from an elevated position."

Harrison points at a well-worn map and grins at me. I give him a polite smile in return, despite the fact that I'm feeling more than a little overwhelmed by all the detailed information he's giving me.

Rylan was right; Harrison, looking strangely pale and unusually disorganized, is overly prepared and overly thorough. He's armed with a stack of different maps, papers with battle plans expertly printed on them, and several books on the mental effects of war. To my surprise, I had found that aspect of his lecture fascinating, especially the psychological effects from being in such situations. It made me think of Eric and all his years in Dauntless. I've often thought of him as invincible, but deep down I know he isn't.

My enthusiasm wore off sometime around noon.

Eric is now sitting across from me with a very smug expression on his face. I've been here for a little over three hours, listening to Harrison talk and occasionally cough. He hasn't left out a single detail nor a single scenario that could potentially happen. Once we moved on to the more practical side of planning, my brain started to feel like it was dissolving, especially when he started to show me how to physically write out battle plans.

I'm not clueless as to what happens during a fight or a war, but learning how to actually plot out where to attack or potentially blow something up was eye-opening. I could see how someone could be consumed with finding the best way to strategize and attack. But by the third hour, I simply couldn't process anymore.

"What would you do here? Is this a better location or is this one?"

Harrison, now slightly sweaty, has been patient; far more than I would have expected. He was honored to share his knowledge with me, perhaps hoping I'd share the love of strategy just as much as he did. And maybe I would have had I not been staring longingly at the donut Eric was eating at a maddeningly slow pace.

For the first few hours I'd been very focused, able to ignore Eric's sudden appearances and disappearances as he left to do things like get his coffee, bring in a handful of donuts, or respond to phone calls. But now, in this overly warm room, I'm starting to wish Eric would say something. Occasionally he looks up, locking eyes with me as he takes a slow bite, then smirks. He hasn't offered me one of the donuts, probably because he knows Harrison doesn't want my sticky fingers all over his pristine maps.

"Uh, that one. It's closer, but less covered. But would that be the more preferable location, depending on the target?" I stare up at him, my blood sugar dropping with every passing second; Harrison's eyes light up in delight.

"Exactly," he exclaims, looking the most energetic he's been all morning.

I celebrate when he folds that map up, thinking perhaps this lesson is coming to an end. But instead, he reaches over and pulls out another map, this one an outline of the Dauntless borders.

"Now, what about here…" he begins, interrupted by a sudden fit of coughing. He tries to stop, but it takes him a while. Eventually he stops just long enough to take a drink of his coffee, which has gone cold after all this time. For a moment I panic, thinking this is it. He's about to die on me, and we haven't even found Evelyn yet, nor has he signed off on my paperwork. I might be stuck in this program forever, or until someone steps in to take Harrison's place. They might try to force the position on me, but at least then I could sign off on my own paperwork.

"Are you okay?" I ask him worriedly. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Eric scrolling through his phone, not even bothering to look up at Harrison. "Do you need a minute?"

"No, I'm fine," Harrison coughs out, completely oblivious to his imminent death. He coughs again; this time, his face turns red. "Actually, yes. I'll be right back. Wait here, we still have a few more things to go over."

Beside him, Eric is finally finished eating his donut, completely unfazed. He glances over as Harrison stands up and leaves, still coughing uncontrollably.

"That's unfortunate," Eric raises an eyebrow at me, leaning back in his chair. He eyes me for a second, then frowns. "Are you alright? You look a bit—"

"Eric, I'm starving and you didn't even offer me a donut," I interrupt him. I stand up, enjoying the way my spine stretches fully after hours of sitting. He watches me with a rather indifferent expression on his face.

"I didn't offer you anything because you didn't look hungry," Eric answers, his voice dry and bored. "And I didn't want to interrupt your lesson."

I glare at him as I put my hands on my hips. "Well, I was. And that was rude."

"Rude?" he cocks an eyebrow at me, and I swear if he smirks one more time, I will smack him.

"Yes, rude." I stand there, staring at him until he finally holds both his palms up in surrender.

"I was waiting. I thought you'd want to celebrate with something better than a donut," Eric answers easily, not at all threatened by me.

"Celebrate what? The fact that you didn't share your breakfast or the fact that Harrison is probably going to die in the next five minutes?"

Eric snorts. "Calm down, Amity. With our luck, he'll live forever. And we're celebrating... this."

He shuffles his papers around, moving aside several sheets that look familiar. They look just like the ones from my training, with plenty of boxes for comments, and a checklist with scores beside it. He finally fishes out the very last page and holds it up for me to see. It's a certificate of accomplishment, and my eyes widen at his neat signature at the bottom.

"I'm done?"

I'm shocked. I honestly wasn't expecting to finish up today. Or even this week. Eric had never been entirely clear about how much more training I had left to do or what he had chosen to include in my leadership curriculum, and I hadn't bothered to ask. I'd worked on whatever it was he thought we should do, knowing that he probably knew better than whatever some ancient training guide had to offer.

"Yes," he answers, standing up. He points to the blank line beside his, and hands me a pen. "Sign here."

I stare at him, confusion all over my face, and he steps closer to me. He reaches for me, sliding one arm around my waist until I'm flush against him.

"I can tell you know what you're doing. I would trust you to map out an attack, I'd trust you to shoot someone, and I'd trust you to oversee a patrol squad. And while you can't overpower me, you know how to take someone down. On paper, there's nothing left for me to show you."

My lips part in surprise, and Eric looks pretty pleased with himself. He uses one hand to push my hair behind my ear, his grey eyes locked on me. "I'll still help you with whatever you need. If something were to come up, you could always ask me. You know that. Keeping you in this program any longer would only be for my own selfish reasons."

"Are you sure?" I ask him, my heart speeding up considerably. I'm having a hard time believing what he's saying. "I'm really done? I mean, I thought I had more… I thought there was more I needed…"

"You've completed everything I was supposed to show you," Eric murmurs, bending down towards me. "Congratulations, Everly."

The reality of the situation hits me, and for a second I'm overcome with a surprising amount of emotion. After all this — coming to Dauntless, leaving behind my entire former life, finding myself entangled so deeply with Eric that I didn't leave his side for the past two years, discovering that I was more than just someone looking for a little excitement, finding a life here in Dauntless — I have finally done it.

I stare back at Eric, his icy eyes still on mine. I try to slow down the onslaught of strange feelings, but I can't. The words fall out of my mouth before my brain can catch up.

"But I won't be working under you anymore."

I wait for him to make some snappy remark about how I can be under him anytime, but he must feel the same way. He frowns, his fingers tightening in my hair, and he lets his forehead rest against mine.

"I'll still see you around. You get to keep your same office. It's not like I won't see you every day," he answers, and I chew on my lip. There is a weird pressure in my chest, one that keeps building until I feel like I might start to cry right here in front of him.

"But Eric…" I say, trailing off when his lips press against mine. Everything else falls away as he kisses me, except for the feeling of him and me.

"Jesus, don't you two live together? Or am I confusing you with the other Eric and Everly that I know?"

Eric slowly lifts his head away from me, still keeping his hands on either side of my face, and I turn my head in surprise. I scowl when I find Jason standing there with a very entertained expression on his face.

"For real, you two are married, right? Isn't that enough togetherness?" Jason asks, cocking his head to the side and completely ignoring the dark look on Eric's face. "Or did I dream it all?"

He snickers at us, a brave but stupid man, one who's still laughing even when Eric lets go of me and moves to shove him out of the way.

"Get back to work. Aren't you supposed to be out with Max?" he snarls, and I watch as Jason struggles to look at me over Eric's shoulder.

"I'm on my lunch break," he calls out, making sure I can see him. "I'll let you guys get back to whatever it was you were doing. If either of you need me, I'll be checking on Harrison since you don't seem to have noticed he's about to die."

"Great, let us know how that works out for you," Eric hisses, and I laugh when Eric kicks the door shut, swearing at his friend. "Fucker."

He stops to look at me, and it's as though he's never met me before. I know I look nothing like the girl that stood before him in a flimsy dress with no clue what I was doing. Even though I'm not wearing the dark uniform he is, I'm still dressed in black. His eyes rake over my hair, messily braided to the side, down to the wedding ring on my finger.

He smiles, not the cold, unimpressed sneer I first received when I arrived, but something warmer, more intimate. Something that is reserved only for me. The same smile that I get when I climb into bed with him, or when I lay my head on his chest.

"You know," he starts, closing the distance between us. I focus on the sharpness of his jacket, the perfect stitching on his collar, until he's right in front of me. "I never told you this, but I have to say that I think you're the best initiate I ever had."

His voice is low and gravelly, and he smiles lazily when I reach for his hands and slide my fingers through his.

"And I'd have to say you're the best trainer I ever had," I answer, and he grins even wider.

"Everly…" But he doesn't finish his sentence. Whatever he was about to say is lost as we are interrupted by someone yelling through the door — Jason, clearly unable to control himself.

"You two are gross. No one cares how much you like each other. Go home before Harrison dies."

Eric snorts, kissing me once more before I hear Jason shrieking Harrison's name.

 

Harrison lives.

He returns a half hour later, cough drops in hand and a grimace on his face. I'm in Eric's office, seated across from him, neatly initialing every single paper that Eric has scored. I smile when I see Harrison walk in, but I notice he still looks pale and tired.

"Welcome back," I greet him, setting my papers down. "Are you alright?" Beside me, Eric lifts his head up to glance at Harrison, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I'm fine. I seem to have come down with some sort of flu. I wasn't feeling great this morning, but I thought it would go away. Apparently, I was wrong," he pauses, sighing heavily. "Arlene says I have to go home until the fever breaks and it doesn't hurt to swallow anymore. So, we'll have to cut our lesson short for today. Sorry about that, Everly. We can finish up when I feel better."

Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of Eric stiffening, his eyes flashing to me and his hands tightening into fists.

"Get out," he barks, standing abruptly and nearly knocking everything off his desk. "And don't come back until you're not sick."

"She said it could be a week. I doubt it'll take that long. Though she did think I could be contagious," Harrison ignores him as he continues, waving at me halfheartedly. "I'm sure Eric can finish up your lesson. You were a great listener, Everly. You'll do very well in your new position."

His words are so kind that I can't help but smile, despite his looking like death.

"Thank you. I hope you feel better," I answer him, pleased that he appreciated my efforts. At least for the first few hours.

Eric gives Harrison three more seconds of breathing before he walks out from behind his desk and throws his office door wide open. "Bye. Enjoy your week off." He barely waits until Harrison is out the door before he yanks his phone out of his pocket and taps at it furiously. Seconds later I hear him greet Arlene, his voice tense and irritated, with a tinge of panic. I try to listen, but my own phone rings, and I answer as soon as I see it's Tris. She asks me if we can meet this week, and I agree, ending my call just in time to hear Eric's demands for bleach.

"I didn't know you were so afraid of getting sick," I tell him when he hangs up, and he looks at me in exasperation.

"He touched everything in here. Including you."

Eric surveys the room with his hands on his hips, and the look on his face tells me he's contemplating moving offices and maybe drenching me in disinfectant. Harrison didn't exactly hug me goodbye, but I did touch his maps and pens during the hours we spent together.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. I doubt either of us will get sick."

He ignores me.

It's only a moment later when the door flies open, and the one person that I've been dreading seeing ever since I found out I was pregnant waltzes in, armed with a slew of nurses behind her.


	55. Amity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to BK2U for editing this chapter for me!  
> Major thanks for everyone who is still reading and reviewing this story! I appreciate you all SO much!

Arlene is as pleased as ever.

I'm sure this is what she's been eagerly awaiting, to see both Eric and me in a moment of crisis when we can't escape her. Up until this point, I've been too busy to see her, and I've had no reason to. She's probably been biding her time in her lair of an infirmary, preparing for the moment when we would need her.

I can tell by the way her gaze slides over me, scrutinizing every inch of me, that she's been letting this all build up. She squints at me again, and I know what she's looking for: physical evidence of the virus Harrison had rushed off with, combined with physical evidence of the pregnancy. I try to think of a polite way out of this encounter, but there isn't one. It's becoming clear that unless Eric distracts her or comes to my rescue, I am about to be subjected to her inquisition.

And considering he is busy having a complete and utter meltdown over a pen that Harrison possibly touched, that's highly unlikely.

"You're sure you don't feel sick?"

Arlene looks at me over her glasses, her face reflecting nothing less than a mask of complete professionalism. I wonder how many questions she's dying to ask me, maybe ones like could she be in the room when I give birth, or maybe even could she deliver the baby herself? But so far, she's stayed strictly professional, feeling my forehead to see if I have a fever and looking at my throat despite my protests that I feel fine.

"I don't think I could catch what Harrison had that fast," I point out, taking a step to the side to let some of her team pass by me. They've been cleaning Eric's office with a vengeance, and I escaped into the hallway after watching him chug down a drink that one of them had mixed up. It was orange and fizzy, and he threw it back like his life depended on it.

"These things spread fast, and you were exposed for an extended amount of time," Arlene tells me, her tone insinuating I'm dumb for even uttering such words. "Eric doesn't want you or the baby to get sick. We have no time for that."

"I'm fine, really," I reassure her, feeling a sudden urge to get out of this hallway before she can say anything else. This is the first time she's mentioned the word baby, and I'm not prepared for the onslaught of advice that I know is coming. I also can't seem to help feeling a tinge of guilt. It's not like I owe her anything, but I know she looked after Eric as though she were responsible for him. Maybe I should be more gracious than suspicious, less inclined to feel like she's nosily prying into Eric's and my personal life.

"I'm pretty healthy. Remember when Eric had me get all those vaccinations?" I try to bypass Arlene's interrogation, but she narrows her eyes at me in a perfect imitation of Eric.

"He didn't sign you up to get the flu shot. The two of you must have been very busy lately," she retorts. I can see Linda watching our conversation with rapt fascination. I send her a pleading look to send help, but she must confuse it with one that says don't-do-anything-Linda-I'm-totally-fine because she turns back to her typing without helping me out at all.

"I give you twenty-four hours, unless you've been taking the multivitamins I recommended."

She looks at me pointedly, and I try to make myself look like someone who's been taking that stupid vitamin she prescribed for me when I first came here.

"I'm sorry. We haven't come by to see you because we've just been really busy, and…" I try to think of something more to say, some very valid reason for why I didn't want to see her, preferably something other than the fact that I think the baby is no one else's business but mine and Eric's. "...We haven't told very many people yet. But I…uh….I take the prenatal one. When I remember," I tell her hastily. I'm sure she's expecting me to say that Eric stands there and watches me take it or forces it down my throat, but not even he is that ridiculous. At least not lately. "So, I think I'll be fine."

"I'll be the judge of that," she retorts, her eyebrow quirking up skeptically.

She doesn't say anything else. She simply motions for one of her nurses to come over, and I cringe when the same orange drink is handed to me. It looks dark and fizzy, and it smells like fake oranges. My stomach immediately turns over, and I try not to gag.

"It's an emergency immune system support drink. It's packed full of the vitamins you're probably missing, plus a little something extra to boost your immunity." Arlene pauses to look at my face, and then she smiles widely. "I'd drink it fast if I were you, because it tastes terrible."

I reluctantly take the cup from her and stare at it.

"I'll just... uh…"

I don't finish my sentence.

Instead, I sneeze multiple times in a row, much to Arlene's satisfied delight.

 

I pass her inspection a half hour later.

I have no fever, no red throat, and no swollen lymph nodes. I don't even sneeze again. There is nothing warranting a prescription or further investigation, and I can tell she's irritated that she can't force me to stay there while her team finishes up. Molly arrives, papers in hand, and I enthusiastically wave her over to me, much to Arlene's annoyance.

"Molly! Long time no see! I have a question for you."

I happily step away from Arlene, grabbing Molly by the arm and playing off her look of surprise as one of pleasure. I ignore her protests that she needs to give Arlene the papers as I drag her down the hallway a bit, throwing open Rylan's office door and shutting it behind us.

"Everly, what on Earth? Why did you bring me in here? Arlene asked for these. They're the forms for requesting…"

"Uh, can I help you?"

We both turn to look at Rylan. I didn't think he'd actually be in his office, but there he is, staring at us with a funny look on his face. He leans back in his desk chair and glances at his desk. His office isn't quite as organized as Eric's, and he looks a bit frazzled.

"Hi, welcome to my office. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Rylan asks dryly when neither of us say anything, scrunching his eyebrows together. "You two playing hide and seek?"

"Arlene is in Eric's office," I answer him quickly, and I turn to Molly, ignoring Rylan's even more confused expression. "Molly does that drink really work?"

"Uh…" Molly's eyes widen. She looks mildly uncomfortable, as though I've asked her to spill the deepest and darkest secrets about the Dauntless infirmary. In reality, I just want to know what I watched Eric chug moments ago. But Molly seems torn, and I watch her look at Rylan, then back to me, then back to Rylan.

"Because if I drink it, I'm going to throw it back up."

I'm not entirely lying; the fizzy drink is still in my hand, still fizzling and still smelling like fake oranges. The smell alone is making me feel a bit queasy, and if Molly doesn't have a winning story behind how it works, there is no way I am drinking it.

"Well…it's…uh…" Molly trails off, looking nervous. "I mean, Arlene would tell you that you should drink it…but I don't want you to throw it up. It's mostly just vitamins and imitation orange flavoring. Erudite hasn't quite figured out how to recreate the taste of a real orange yet."

I shake my head. "No, thanks. I don't feel like throwing up today."

Rylan makes a horrified sound. "My God, please, not in my office. Jason threw up in here once and it took a whole year to get rid of the smell. Underground ventilation is shit."

I set the drink on his desk, and shake my head again.

"I'll pass, thank you for telling me."

Molly looks nervous, but I don't care. I spent years drinking a tea that I was told would help me wake up only to later discover it was a fertility drink. I hate to feel suspicious of Arlene, but God knows what's really in it.

"Let's see if she's gone. Thanks for letting us hide out here, Rylan." I say the words quickly, opening up his door to peek outside. The hallway is quiet, with no sign of Arlene or her staff.

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief and decide to hightail it out of here before anyone tries to stop me. I just want to disappear and go someplace quiet where no one will pester me, and I think I know exactly where I can go to escape further scrutiny.

 

 

I find Four sitting in the control room.

Part of me feels guilty for leaving Eric with Arlene, but knowing him, he's probably gone home to shower and burn his uniform. I don't want to go back and get lectured on the recommended dosage of vitamins, so I text Eric that I am going for a walk. He responds with the word "fine," and I try not to focus on his terse reply as I slide into the chair beside Four, settling myself down on the hard plastic.

Four doesn't say anything.

He keeps his stare straight ahead, his eyes narrowed in concentration on the row of screens before him.

"Hi, Four…"

I say his name quietly, and he finally turns to glance at me. He stares at me guardedly, his brown eyes blinking at me a few times before he sighs.

"Why are you here?" he asks me, his tone flat and frustrated. "If you came to try and browbeat me into…"

"I didn't come to bother you. I just came to get away from Arlene," I answer honestly, and he makes a face at her name. "Harrison is sick, and she came upstairs to disinfect Eric's office."

Four lets out a bark of laughter, smirking at me suddenly. "Eric afraid of getting sick, is he? Don't remember that being part of his fear landscape."

"He said Harrison is contagious. I think he's overreacting. But I left because Arlene is annoying, and I didn't want to answer a millions questions about the baby."

He nods his head, turning back to the computer screen. "Yeah, I'd try to get away from her, too," he mutters.

I wonder if he's ever spent time in her infirmary, subjected to hours of her endless questioning. Before I can ask him, he looks back at me, motioning for me to click on the mouse.

"Section five, please."

"How long have you been in here?" I ask him, glancing around. I click on the section he wants, seeing nothing of any real interest.

The control room is quiet now; there are only three others in here, and they are busily using the computers on the opposite wall. They are hunched over, typing furiously to record notes about something. Other than that, there is only the sound of Four tapping at a letter on the keyboard. I notice him pressing the "E" key repeatedly, and when I look up, he's looking right at me.

"Are you looking for Evelyn?"

Four swallows heavily and rubs his face with his hand.

"I feel like I should know where she is," he finally answers. His words hang in the air between us, weighted and awkward. I don't say anything in response. I just wait for him to continue, keeping my eyes on his keyboard.

"I've been sitting here for hours on end, using all of my spare time looking for her. For anything. A sign, a person, a slip up on her part. And there's nothing. She's covered her trail; she's hidden herself so well that she hasn't even been spotted in…"

"They think they're close to finding her," I tell him quietly, and I bring my knees up so my feet are flat on the chair. "They've been finding her men here and there. A few have talked, but…"

"Why does no one know that?" Four snaps, and I watch as he stabs at a few buttons on the keyboard, his frustration clearly visible. "Why haven't they announced that they might know where she is?"

"Only the leaders know. There's no real reason to alert the entire faction when they don't know for sure," I answer, reaching forward to touch the keyboard myself. I click back to section two. The computer changes the view, the screen sliding into a picture of the main Dauntless exit. Four and I both watch as a patrol truck returns. A squad jumps out, happily high-fiving each other as they walk into the patrol station.

"You aren't the only one who feels bad about not knowing where she is," I tell him gently, and he glares at me, his face darkening.

"Everly."

"Believe me, I wish I knew where to find her. I'd shoot her myself." I say the words with a surprising flush of anger, despite the fact that I'm talking about Four's mother. Perhaps I've been around Eric too long, or maybe I'm just tired of seeing my friends hurt by this terrible woman, but my words are true. If I came across Evelyn, I wouldn't hesitate to fire at her.

"At this point, I probably would, too."

Four says the words so quietly I almost don't hear them, but I do.

"You should take the leadership position, Four."

I don't quite have it in me to fight him on this, but it's really for the best, not just for the faction, but for everyone. I figure this is my one final shot at trying to persuade him before they drag someone like Quinten out of the kitchens and ask him to apply.

I think Four knows what he should do.

He doesn't say anything else; there's no protest, no angry snapping at me, and that alone speaks volumes. He just nods once and turns his head back towards the screen. He doesn't look up again as I stand to leave. It's time to let Four go back to his search, and time for me to go face my cranky husband.

 

A day later, Eric comes down with a spectacular version of the very flu that felled Harrison. Turns out, Arlene's magical orange drink couldn't prevent him from succumbing to the virus, and nothing pissed him off more than when I pointed out that he basically drank something someone in Amity might have concocted for him.

"My mother would have made you something like that. Barberry to boost your immune system. Echinacea to boost your white blood cell count, elderberry syrup to help ward the virus off." He glares at me, even while I hand him the painkillers and a glass of water, which he swallows simultaneously. "I could ask my mom to send some of her oils to put on your chest. It might help with your cough."

I smile sweetly when I say the last part, completely joking, but Eric looks at me with something akin to murder on his mind. He screws his eyes shut and sneers, but it must hurt his head to make such a face because he also winces.

"Fuck off, Everly. You're not putting anything of the sort on me."

I ignore his outburst, knowing he feels like garbage. His symptoms had hit him fast; one minute he was gleefully writing out an order for Karl, and the next minute he was asking me if it felt hot in our apartment. I had looked at him like he was insane. Eric's apartment has never been hot, not even in the warmest parts of summer. But ten minutes later he started coughing, something deep and persistent from his chest that sounded like it hurt. He glared when I mentioned he might have caught the flu, but it wasn't until I watched him sneeze a few times that he realized I could be right.

"Eric…" I start to stay, but he opens his eyes, looking remorseful.

"I'm sorry," he interrupts, so quietly I almost can't hear him. "I don't want you to fuck off. I want you to lie down with me, but I don't want you to get sick."

I stare at him, unable to really be mad at Eric. He looks sort of pathetic: pale and tired and uncomfortable. I know he doesn't like being sick, and I've seen his schedule this week. He doesn't have a day that's not fully booked, and now he's too sick to do anything more than glare at me.

"Do you need anything else?" I ask him, and he shakes his head miserably.

I had called Arlene on his behalf. I had managed to dump her magic drink without her knowing, but that didn't stop her from sounding smug when she answered. At least until I'd explained who was actually sick. She'd immediately sent up a nurse up with a cough syrup and something for the fever. Eric had looked at me gratefully, and it made wonder if Blythe ever took care of him when he was a child, because he seemed rather uneasy letting anyone see him like this.

"It's alright. I know you don't feel good. Arlene said the medicine will kick in soon." I smooth his hair off his forehead, wishing he didn't feel quite so feverish. He shuts his eyes, settling back against his pillow and sighing heavily.

"Everly…"

"Go to sleep, Eric. I'll be here when you wake up," I tell him, and he opens his eyes the tiniest bit.

"You will?"

I nod at him. I'm not sure where he thinks I'm going, or if maybe he's delirious, but I promise him as I let my fingers trail through his hair, pulling on the soft strands gently. He finally relaxes slightly, sighing deeply as he settles back against his sheets.

"You'll feel better soon," I promise, watching his chest rise and fall with every deep breath.

"Okay," he mutters. It's the last thing he says before he shuts his eyes again, and I know he's nearly asleep.

I stay with him for a while, my fingers still in his hair, until my chest stops hurting.

 

Whatever Arlene gave Eric works miracles, because two days later he bounces back, better than ever. He wastes no time getting back to work, and it's only an hour into our day when he hands me something. My eyes widen when I realize the ambassador's manual is only half the size of my leadership manual.

I inspect the book carefully, mostly because it looks nothing like the official leadership version. This one is a much smaller book, with a pretty cover and the inscription The Ambassador's Guide to the Factions on it. The book looks official, but it also looks like it's been heavily amended. There are pages that have been torn out, pages stuffed into random spots, and multiple sections of handwritten notes.

It is the complete opposite of anything Eric has ever given me, and while I would bet he despises the messiness of it, I sort of love it.

"You'll start next week. You can skim through this if you want, but there really isn't anyone you'll report to except for Max, and I'm sure he won't be ready. But you might want to be prepared since Max operates differently than I do."

Eric sounds serious, his words sharp and unimpressed by his fellow leader. There is no doubt in my mind that Max won't be ready, but I would guess it has more to do with his workload than anything else. I should feel slightly nervous about reporting to Max, except I've seen his office.

"Who was the ambassador before me?" I ask Eric, and I take careful note of the way he tenses up.

"No one. Tris was on track for it, but Four talked her out of it," he answers offhandedly. He sounds unimpressed, as if he's recalling a very boring event from a long time ago.

But his words throw me off, and I stare at him in confusion. "What? Why?" Tris had never once mentioned anything about taking another position here, let alone the very one I was about to start.

Eric shrugs. "She and Four got into an argument, and she decided to back out of the position to work in intelligence. I didn't care to hear all the details. She went to the control room, and we kept the position open. We usually send Harrison if we need to."

"Would you have tried to talk me out of it? If I had said that this was what I wanted to do this whole time?"

Eric shakes his head. "I might have made a few decisions on your behalf, but I did that to make sure you were safe. I wanted to make sure you had every opportunity to succeed here. Jeanine did the same for me, but it came with a heavy price. But you…" He pauses, swallowing before he meets my gaze. "You deserved it without any strings attached."

My heart feels like it might burst.

"Well, there might have been a few strings attached," Eric suddenly snickers.

"You mean like that marriage certificate I signed?" I grin at him and open the book up. I flip through it, noticing there are sections for each faction. The section for Dauntless has a page with photos of the leaders, and I touch the photo of Eric sneering up at me. "I feel like that one came with a few."

When I look up, Eric is distracted, his head bent down towards his phone.

"I gotta break up a fight," he calls out, and he's suddenly gone, rushing past me with a sense of urgency that I've only seen a few times.

I don't listen to him.

I immediately follow after him, stepping into the hallway briskly, but he's already at the elevator before I can catch him.

 

Kacie's apology comes the day I leave for Amity.

I had been shocked to discover the email from Max asking me to go. It was carefully worded, ever professional, instructing me to meet with Johanna and discuss a few security breaches. I read on, swallowing heavily when he mentioned finding factionless in increasing numbers near Amity, and every day they seemed to creep closer and closer to the community. His instructions were clear: head to Amity with a few patrol squads, sit down with Johanna and explain to her that Dauntless would be sending soldiers to patrol all new areas, including some through Amity, and make sure she agreed to it. My main goal was to make sure she understood why, and that the presence of the Dauntless soldiers wasn't anything to be alarmed over, even though it really was.

I almost didn't see Kacie's message, mostly because I was surprised that I was already being given an assignment. I skimmed her email quickly, noting the way that she sounded sincerely sorry, and she ended it by offering up her help if I ever needed it. I vaguely wondered if Eric said something to her, but I didn't think he'd had the time. So I typed up a quick response, thanking her and promising I would stop by if the need arose.

Then I went to find Eric.

I knew he wouldn't be thrilled about this assignment, and I was totally expecting him to shoot it down. Even with the backup of multiple patrol squads accompanying me, this seemed like Erudite all over again. Eric wouldn't be there, he wouldn't be in control of what was going on, and he absolutely had the authority to tell me not to go.

So I was shocked when he nodded at me, taking my hands in his as he kissed my cheek and told me to be very careful. He handed me the gun I'd been assigned, a bulletproof vest that weighed more than I did, and roughly informed me not to take it off. He then instructed me to stay in the truck until I was escorted inside by Rylan.

I could see the tension on his face, the way he looked like he was struggling to not snap and drag me back home, barking for someone else to go. I knew he was stressed by the very way he exhaled slowly when he finally let go of me, his stare falling down somewhere beside me.

It was almost enough to make me ask him to come along with me.

Almost.

But I couldn't.

I needed to do this on my own, as much as one could with a few backup squads in tow. The bottom line was that I couldn't hide from Evelyn for the rest of my life. I couldn't spend my days afraid of what could happen because I really wasn't. I wasn't afraid of her or her army. For someone who had spoken of such grand plans and such a need for change, she had proven that she was the most cowardly of all. She believed in the same system — so long as it worked to her benefit.

When I thought about that, it made me furious all over again. She'd stolen time from me, moments I would never get back no matter how hard I tried, and that alone was enough to push me on.

I catch sight of Rylan standing a few feet from us, signing off on the orders for us to leave. I swallow down the few remaining feelings of unease at the thought that Evelyn could possibly be lurking in the woods, because I know full well that I will shoot her on sight if I happen to see her. Eric squeezes my hands one final time, his grip firm enough that I know this is maddening to him, but when he lets go, he looks proud.

I smile as I climb into the truck that Rylan is driving. It makes me feel a little better to go with him, but even he looks serious as he slides into the driver's seat.

"Buckle up," he tells me, watching to make sure I really do. His grim expression doesn't lessen, not even when we pull out behind the line of trucks waiting to leave. I'm not surprised to see I am leaving with far more men than Max mentioned, and I know this has to be Eric's doing. It takes a few minutes until the trucks in front of us receive their clearance, and then we are finally waved through the gates. I turn around and see Eric standing there, hands clasped behind his back while he watches alongside Jason, Max, and Tori; for some reason, it gives me an ominous feeling to leave Eric behind, so I keep my gaze on him until I can't see him anymore.

Rylan stays mostly silent until we arrive in Amity. He carefully steers the truck down a familiar dirt road, passing by the very forests I'd played in growing up, narrowly missing the newer-looking fence as he turns further into the compound.

"You know, they built that because Eric drove through the last one."

"Hm?" I look over at him in confusion. I'd been lost in my own thoughts, staring at the woods as though someone was going to pop out of them right before my very eyes.

"Eric drove through that fence," Rylan answers, turning sharply. "After Eric realized you were here, we came to get you. He didn't want to waste time actually driving around the fence, so he just went through it." He looks over at me, and for the first time since I climbed into the truck, he grins. "I've never seen him move so fast in my life."

I laugh, because I can easily imagine Eric barreling through Amity with little regard for its property.

"I didn't notice, but I can picture it," I answer, reaching for my seatbelt as we come to a halt.

A few Amity stop in their tracks, gaping at the horde of trucks parking wherever they please. The Dauntless trucks are massive, reinforced and bulletproof, and I notice Rylan has parked so my side is closest to the building that houses Johanna's office. I wait until he steps out first. He waves over the squad from the second truck. I feel fairly useless sitting here as they talk amongst themselves, but it's only another second before he motions for me to join them.

"Inside," Rylan announces before my feet even touch the ground. I shrug off the heavy vest, ignoring Rylan's piercing stare and I shake my head.

"It's too hot. And Evelyn isn't inside Johanna's office, and you know it."

Rylan makes a funny sound and squints into the distance, and I wonder if he's really looking for Evelyn. He bites his lip as though he's weighing his options. But too bad for him, because he's not about to get the damned vest back on me. I don't give him time to protest; I take off, heading inside past the horses before he can try.

The barn is welcoming — warm and quiet — and I find Johanna waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. She smiles brightly, stepping towards me with open arms.

I find myself growing teary-eyed at the very sight of her, especially when I realize my mother is standing a few feet behind her.

 

 

"How far along are you?"

My mother holds me against her, so tightly I can barely breathe, but I don't complain. She smells just like I remember, like fresh air and lavender, and one of her hands is clasped onto my hair, smoothing it down over and over. I don't know if she read my email or she came to the conclusion on her own, but she seemed to just know about the baby before I could even tell her.

"Everly." She says my name gently, and I manage to pull away from her and smile up at her.

"Four and a half months," I tell her, and her eyes widen as she scans me up and down. I have no formal dress code as an ambassador, so I'd worn what I would have if I were attending a meeting with Max: leggings and a shirt that falls off my shoulders. My mother shakes her head, looking thoughtful.

"You look beautiful, but you aren't eating enough. I can tell." She holds my face in both of her hands, and her eyes bore into mine. "Have you been very busy?"

I nod my head at her. "I have been. I just finished the leadership program I was in and accepted a new position as an ambassador to the factions. My first assignment was to come here."

My mother frowns again, and this time, my heart sinks a bit at her obvious disappointment.

"You don't like that? Do you think I should have done something else?" I ask, and she shakes her head no.

"Everly, it's very dangerous out there right now. I'm surprised you're even here. When Johanna told me you were coming…" She pauses and looks over at the swarm of Dauntless guards all standing and staring at the horses. "... I didn't believe it. I thought there was no way they would think it was safe for you to come back here."

"Eric arranged for me to be escorted here," I tell her, glancing back at the guards. To my surprise, Jason is here, and he and Rylan are petting one of the larger horses. I watch as Jason reaches out, then jerks back when the horse moves towards him. "I think I'm fairly safe."

My mother lets go of my face, and she smiles gently. "I bet Eric doesn't think so. Is he here?"

"Not yet," I smile, and she knows I'm joking. "He took every precaution he could think of to make sure I could come."

"That sounds very intense. All that must weigh on you," my mother says softly, looking me up and down again. I'm sure the whole idea of this war is far too much for her. She was never disappointed that I'd chosen another faction, but I can tell she's thinking my life now sounds too stressful, and had I stayed in Amity, my life would be much easier. "Is Eric excited about the baby?"

"He is. He's wanted one for a while now. I didn't even know I was pregnant until…" I stop mid-sentence, not wanting to confess to her that I found out I was pregnant after getting shot. It'll only add to her worry, and I don't need that. "... Until I started to feel really exhausted."

My mother smiles knowingly. "You must be very tired, dear. All this running around, from faction to faction. You know, I dreamt you were pregnant. It was a couple of months ago, but I remember waking up and thinking that I'd hear news from you. But I didn't. I only got a visit from Eric's father, spouting off about the nature of my healing practice and was I even licensed for what I was doing. Can you imagine the nerve of him? I would never have asked him if he was licensed."

Her distraction is a welcome relief, but I have to keep my mouth shut about Daniel. I know my mother has worked hard for years, helping to cultivate species for natural remedies inside the greenhouses. She also gathers them wherever they grow naturally throughout Amity, then expertly combines the ingredients to create concoctions that help her patients heal. She takes pride in her knowledge of almost every plant and herb known to man as well as her ability to prevent or cure many ailments. Daniel's questioning, though totally practical and necessary, must have seemed downright insulting to her.

"He means well," I tell her, and I glance over at Jason one more time. He and Rylan are still by the horses, but they are deep in conversation, looking at one of their phones.

"I'm sure he does. He spoke very highly of you. He seems to be rather fond of you and Eric," my mother tells me, and I can tell her mind is a million miles away. She then smiles brightly and reaches for my hands. "You're planning to stay for dinner, aren't you? You and Johanna should go have your meeting, and then you can come over and eat with the family. Everyone will be home tonight, and I know they will be thrilled to see you."

"Of course," I tell her without even thinking. I'm not sure how long this meeting with Johanna will be, but maybe I can stretch it out so I have enough time to stay and eat. I could always message Eric and tell him we'll be home a little later than planned. "I'd love that."

She touches my cheek and then hugs me again, so tightly that my lungs hurt. "It's so good to see you again." She murmurs the words into my hair, and I try to stop the burning feeling behind my eyes before I start to cry for absolutely no reason.

 

 

I almost wish my meeting with Johanna had gone on longer.

As soon as it's over, everything happens at once. Eric arrives, sharply dressed, and he stalks through the office and over to me. I feel thrown off when I see him; I had been so deeply immersed in my talk with Johanna that I failed to notice when he arrived with what appeared to be half the Dauntless army behind him.

"You're here?" I glance up at him, noticing his freshly-cut hair and the gleam in his eye as he comes to a stop beside me. He nods at Johanna, not bothering to extend his hand or actually greet her.

"I am," he answers casually, grinning when Johanna excuses herself for a moment, throwing me a knowing look. "I got an email inviting me to dinner." He raises an eyebrow at me, and he looks rather entertained. "Your mother selected the wrong Coulter to reply to, but who am I to turn down such a request for my company?"

"You really want to eat with her?" I ask him warily. He looks a little too amused for my liking, but he shrugs and leans against Johanna's desk. "I thought you hated the food here."

"I do," he retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I'm also here with Karl. He got a lead about an hour ago, and I figured I could lend a hand. We brought a few men in case the need arose."

"Of course you did," I tell him, and I can't help but grin at his terribly obvious plan to come along to check up on me. "But I'm fine. Everything is fine here. Johanna has agreed to all the security detailing, and I was just going to message you and tell you I would be eating dinner with my mom."

"Great. Sounds like you did a fantastic job on your first assignment." Eric smiles, glancing around the room quickly. Johanna's office looks exactly the same as it always has, so I'm not quite sure what he's looking for.

"Thanks," I tell him, standing up from my seat. I smile at him, wondering if he really wants to eat dinner here. "Are you sure you're coming with me? To my mom's?"

"I already told her I'm coming. It would be rude of me to not show up," he announces cheerfully, and I realize he's dead set on attending this dinner with me despite the fact that my mother probably hasn't even read his email. He reminds me of the Eric I first met, the one who seemed to not be bothered by anything, who bulldozed his way through my life.

It makes me smile when he loses all control a little while later.

We walk to my mother's house together, and I enjoy the feeling of the warm sun on my exposed skin. It feels good to be out in the open; the sky is a bright blue, the clouds are lazily streaking by above us, and the trees seem taller and greener than ever. I notice Eric glancing at me a few times, and I'm sure he's noticed that I ditched his bulletproof vest. Before he can open his mouth to ask where it is, we reach the front porch of my mother's home, and to my surprise, a very familiar figure is standing there, leaning against the rails.

"Hey, Squirt!"

I feel warm all over when I realize my older brother is home, his head cocked to the side. He eyes Eric and me up and down quickly, then he beams at us.

"Long time no see, kiddo."

I can feel Eric eyeing him critically; he's dressed like most men in Amity, dark pants and a loose-fitting shirt. But he's tall and fit, and almost as muscular as Eric. His hair isn't even all that long; it's cropped short except for the top, which is longer, much like Eric's. He looks tan, happy, and cheerful as he saunters towards us.

"Mom told me you were coming by. I figured I couldn't miss the opportunity to say hi to my baby sister."

Eric looks at me out of the corner of his eye as my brother approaches. I wouldn't say he seems to be on alert, because he's made it clear he's not at all threatened by anyone in Amity, but there is a flash of apprehension when I introduce them, and surprisingly it comes from Eric.

"Eric, this is my older brother, Forrest."

Eric smiles tightly, his lips quirking up when he realizes who I'm talking about.

"He's the one who helped me get into Dauntless."

 

 

"Can you hold him for a minute?"

Willow looks as pretty as ever, but also as distracted as ever. She's not really paying attention, because if she was, she'd realize that Eric has less than zero interest in holding the baby she all but shoves into his arms. For a moment, Eric stands there as stiff as can be, holding my brother's child as one might hold an explosive device.

He raises both eyebrows at me, the piercing pulled so tight I wonder if it might pop out of his skin. Before I can even tell him I wasn't aware my brother had a baby, Willow thanks him, touching his arm lightly.

"His name is Woody. He needs to eat soon, but I need to wash my hands first and he'll cry and scream if I put him down. It's hard to get him to latch on if he's irritated. I'll be right back."

Eric turns to me, his expression both confused and stunned as he awkwardly holds the baby in his arms. For the most part, Woody seems content. He is as bald as can be — a happy, chubby little guy who's currently drooling all over his fist. I smile at him, waving my fingers and beaming when he grins widely.

"You take him." Eric moves to hand him to me, but Woody shrieks, a sound that's ear-piercing. Behind him, Rylan cringes, eyeing the baby in Eric's arms with disdain.

"Why is it so loud?" Rylan wonders loudly, taking a step back.

"Eric, Everly, come sit down. I've got dinner ready. Just bring Woody to the table with you."

My mother appears next to us, wiping her hands on her apron. She beams at Eric and me, then down at Woody. "Isn't he darling? Can you believe Willow had no idea she was pregnant? She thought she had come down with a spectacular case of the stomach flu that wouldn't end."

"We didn't have a clue," Forrest announces, sounding as cheerful as ever. He walks past us, carefully balancing multiple plates in his hands. "Little guy showed up six months later. Best thing that's ever happened."

Eric glances down at the baby, who's completely content to be held by him, and I swear his shoulders relax a fraction of an inch. He smiles the tiniest bit, his expression thoughtful, and his eyes seem to almost soften as he gazes at his nephew.

Until Woody starts to cough. He does it three of four times before he gags and spits up all over Eric. I watch as Eric jumps back in some weird attempt to avoid the baby vomit, but it's useless. His pristine uniform jacket is covered in regurgitated milk, and he holds Woody away from him, a look of disgust overtaking his face.

"Take him," Eric barks loudly, and I try very hard to keep a straight face as I take the baby from Eric.

"Are you alright?" I ask, holding Woody against me. He's clearly fine now; he grins a toothless smile at me, then starts chewing on his fingers.

"No," Eric snaps. He narrows his eyes and looks down at his arm, and I watch his lip curl up in distaste.

"I was talking to the baby, Eric," I tell him. I'm having a hard time not laughing out loud as Eric fumbles for what to do next. He holds his arm up again, as though the baby barf might eat through his precious jacket.

Behind him, my mother and Forrest are watching with great interest, even more so when Eric's friends crowd around him, examining his jacket as though he's been drenched in a foreign substance. Jason and Rylan both lean in, offering up their uninformed opinions on how to get it off his jacket.

"You'll probably have to burn it," Jason suggests, and behind him, my mother and Forrest burst out laughing.

"Holy fuck, how many of you are there?" Rylan whispers to me, ducking out of the way as one of my sisters throws a roll at him. She's supposed to be handing it to him, but throwing it at his face is a much more fun way to pass the food, especially when you're six years old and in the midst of a major crush on the men in uniform at your dining room table.

"Um, everyone here is a member of my immediate family. Except for Willow, she's Forrest's wife. But she's from here, too," I answer loudly, looking around for Willow. The dinner table sounds like a battlefield, and I doubt he can hear me anyway. She's the only person we are really missing. She still hasn't returned from wherever she went, but Wesley had taken Woody, and Eric had been forced to hand over his jacket to be washed off.

Other than that, the mood has been pretty cheerful. My mother has been utterly delighted to have more guests for dinner. The addition of Eric, Karl, Jason, Rylan, and someone named Stu didn't faze her at all. She simply found more chairs, shoved a few of the kids closer together, and instructed Zander to come and sit on my lap. It's a normal Amity dinner as far as she is concerned, but I could see the visible horror that slowly spread through Eric when he realized we would all be eating together at this one table.

"She's the mother of the baby who barfed all over Eric, right? And thank you, darling child. I appreciate your help," Rylan answers, waving the roll at my sister; she blushes before ducking under the table. "How many other kids do they have? Nineteen? Are they all coming as well?"

"They just have one. But I didn't even know they had a baby until today."

I notice Eric listening intently. We are crammed together, so closely that I'm practically in his lap. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, taking in his tense posture; he's quiet, focused on the plate in front of him, probably debating on what to eat. My mother made fruit salad, sandwiches, hummus and pita, chicken skewers, several bowls of various pastas, and enough regular salad to feed an army.

While healthy, it's not anything Eric really wants to eat.

A few seats down from us, Karl looks rather enthused. He's made himself a heaping plate of everything, and before I can tell him to be careful what he eats, he digs into his food as though he's been starved for the past week. Wesley watches him with rapt fascination, probably wondering if we even have food in Dauntless.

"I'll just sit here," Holly announces, sliding into the only empty seat, which happens to be located beside Karl. She looks smug, and I notice Paisley looks a little crestfallen as she takes her own seat beside Leif. She stares at Karl for a moment, waiting for him to look up from his food, but Karl doesn't notice. He happily eats a large forkful of pasta, then reaches for his sandwich.

"Karl!" I say his name loudly, wanting to warn him that there's probably peace serum in the bread. I don't know if my mother made the bread herself or got it from the kitchens, but if it's the latter, there is a good chance Karl could wind up rather loopy if he eats his whole sandwich.

Of course, he doesn't hear me.

Mostly because it's the very moment when Zander comes barreling into the room. When he realizes Eric is here, he shrieks at the top of his lungs that he will sit with him and only him.

"No, dear, go sit with Everly. She's missed you." My mother tries to usher him towards me, but it's useless, given how close I'm sitting to Eric. She reaches out for him, but Zander is too fast for her. He zooms past me, shoving himself between Eric and me, and forces his way onto Eric's lap while nearly knocking everything off the table.

Eric looks down at him in bewilderment, freezing as Zander settles himself in place as though this is a common occurrence. Eric looks incredibly uncomfortable, even more so when he realizes Zander fully expects Eric to help him eat dinner.

"I want that." He points to the plate of pasta. "But no green. They're gross. Only yellow."

Eric stares at him, his discomfort increasing as he looks at the plate of multicolored pasta Zander is pointing to. I can see him realize it would be pointless, that it would take forever to separate the noodles, especially when they all taste identical.

"They're all the same," Eric points out irritably, and I have to stop myself from telling him that his logic is lost on Zander. Every since he could decide what he wanted to eat, Zander has been beyond picky about the color of his food. As luck would have it, Amity always has lots of colorful food, but it also means that he has lots of colors to dislike.

"NO!" Zander slams his small fist on the table, making it shake. "Yellow! Only yellow noodles! Yellow, yellow, yellow!"

Eric's face tightens as Zander continues to chant his demands, and I catch him glaring at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Zander, you like all those colors. You'll be fine." I try to calm him down and reach for his plate, neatly arranging pasta all over it. "Here, eat up. And you know what? Eric loves the color green. Green noodles are his favorite."

Both Eric and Zander turn to look at me, their eyes narrowing in an identical manner. They both look suspicious, even more so when I set the plate down in front of them. "Right, Eric? You like green noodles, don't you?"

I try to entice Zander, knowing my mother will be no help. Not only can she not physically get any closer to where Zander is sitting, but she's also wandered over to take a seat next to Willow, who's staring at Eric as though he's from another planet. I smile at her as I stab a green noodle with my fork and hold it up for Eric to eat. He looks horrified, as though I'm offering him human intestines rather than plain pasta.

"I…" he starts to protest, and I smile, shoving the fork at him.

"Good, right?"

I push the fork at him, trying to communicate telepathically that this will trick Zander into eating; fortunately, he seems to understand. I have to give him credit — Eric takes the fork from me, eating the pasta and then swallowing dramatically, glancing down at Zander's face.

"You liked it?" Zander asks him. His eyes are locked on Eric, and he finally reaches for his fork when Eric nods.

"GREEN NOODLES!" Zander yells, enthusiastically stabbing at his plate. Eric jerks away as noodles fly everywhere, and I have to work very hard not to laugh at the sight before me. I would bet that never in a million years did Eric see this coming, and I suddenly realize he's probably never eaten dinner with a small child in his entire life.

"What the hell is up with the color aversion?" Eric hisses. He tries to move Zander off his lap, but it's no use. He's happy there, and even Rylan can't help but laugh when Zander twists around and tries to open Eric's mouth to shove another noodle in it.

"Most kids go through that. They pick a color that they like or don't like and God forbid it ends up in what you're trying to feed them." I pluck a noodle off Eric's shoulder, and he looks at me as though I have led him into some sort of trap.

"We're leaving. Now."

"Hey man, I think this is fantastic," Rylan interrupts. He winks at my sister, clearly enjoying the way she turns bright red. "I thought your anniversary dinner was great, but this is even better. Eden, thank you so much for opening up your home to us. This is truly a gift."

If Eric could have murdered him right then and there, I think he would have. He makes a muffled sound of annoyance, glaring at Rylan as though he's never hated him more. Eric jerks away when Forrest, sitting on the other side of Eric, elbows him to talk to him.

"This…is a shit show. Mom has always believed in 'the more, the merrier'. But sometimes, 'the more' is really just complete insanity under the guise of a family dinner." Forrest leans back, throwing me a knowing grin. I relax slightly, grateful for his less-than-Amity attitude. "Eden can't say no to anyone. You wanna bring forty-seven people over for dinner? Cool, she'll find space on the roof. But Zander hasn't stopped talking about you since you came to pick up Everly, and Mom should have warned you he'd want to sit with you."

Eric looks at him, a funny expression on his face.

"Why?" He sounds irritated, his words sharp and short. "I barely saw him."

Forrest takes a long sip of his drink, then squints at Eric. "You drove here in a truck that night. In the eyes of Zander, you are now his idol. King of the trucks." He pauses, surveying the area in front of Eric, and his eyes light up. "Hey, you know what? I see no one got you anything to drink. I'll grab you something that'll make this a whole lot more enjoyable."

He stands up, managing to untangle himself from the mess of chairs, and he vanishes into the kitchen.

"A truck? The kid doesn't like green food but he likes trucks?" Eric inquires, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"I like noodles!" Zander yells, flinging his head back as he takes a large bite of them.

"Zander really likes trucks. Especially large trucks," I tell Eric, watching as Forrest comes back far too quickly, armed with several mugs in hand. Horror washes over me as I realize he's about to serve all of them beer.

"Oh no, Eric…"

I can't even finish my sentence, because Forrest purposely knocks into me, grinning cheekily when he realizes I'm about to tell Eric not to drink what's in the cup. "Sorry, darling, you can't have any because of your 'condition', so I gave Eric yours as well."

"Eric, that's really…"

Before I can tell him how strong the beer is, that Forrest and his friends have been running their own brewing business out of their homes with only themselves to test their products, Eric downs the entire thing in one swallow, grimacing when he's done.

"Interesting," he chokes out. I watch his face, the way his eyes blink shut a few times and he tries hard not to shudder at whatever he's just ingested. I want to tell him that I tried to warn him, but he turns back to stare at Forrest and raises his glass. "Thanks."

"Figured someone from Dauntless would give us some real feedback on it." Forrest looks beyond thrilled, and Eric sets his empty mug down, only to have it knocked away by Zander. He shoots Eric a look of annoyance, one which Eric immediately returns.

"It's great," Eric grits out, and I sink a little lower in my seat.

The beer is probably not great. Forrest has been working on this home brewing project since long before I even left for Dauntless. He used to help me train in between batches, while waiting for the batch to ferment. It always smelled beyond strong, no matter what herbs or fruit Forrest added to it. While I never tried it, I can only imagine how terrible it tastes.

"I should have a batch by the time your baby is born. Figured I could send you some as a celebratory gift. Maybe name it after you guys."

My mother smiles at Forrest's words, and she looks suddenly far away and dreamy, lost in thoughts of her unborn grandchild.

"You guys got any names picked out yet? Figured you'd probably go for something daring. Maybe Danger? Midnight? Caliber? Everlina?"

Eric snorts. "Far from it. But I do have the name picked out. I think it's rather fitting."

His words catch me off guard. Everyone turns to look at him, including me.

"You picked the name out? Really?" Jason pipes up. Even he sounds surprised, and he looks over at me quizzically. I shrug back at him, turning to look at my husband beside me.

"What do you mean, you picked the name out? You already named our child?" I ask him, just as baffled as everyone else in the room. My brothers are looking at me with a gross expression on their faces, the very idea that Eric and I would have a baby totally repulsive to them. "You weren't going to ask me what I thought we should name the baby?"

Eric smiles at me, the very same grin he had when he told me I had to attend the war games. Twice.

"Everly," he says slowly, almost kindly. "You agreed to it. You told me to go right ahead."

"When?" I ask him indignantly. "When did I say, 'sure Eric, you name our baby'?"

"The other night," he answers offhandedly, and I could smack him for his vagueness.

"What night?" I press on, and he smirks.

"The other night. When you were on top, you…"

"Oh my God," I blurt out, and I feel my face grow hot when I realize what he's about to say. That's what I agreed to?! The motherfucker got me to agree to let him name the baby while I was in the middle of having an orgasm on top of him. "Eric!"

Beside him, Forrest is staring at me, snickering loudly, while my sisters look confused.

"What were you on top of?" Paisley asks, trying to sound casual. Next to her, Leif makes a gagging sound, and there is little doubt he's figured out what Eric meant.

"Nothing," I hiss, glaring at Eric. "You know what? You're right. I think we should go…"

His expression has changed, his whole face lighting up in delight. He turns to Paisley, smiling widely. "She was on top of…"

"Eric!" I shriek, nearly knocking my drink over, fully prepared to stop him from explaining just what he and I were doing when I agreed he could name our child.

"MORE NOODLES!" Zander yells, officially out of food. He raises his fork in the air, nearly stabbing Eric in the eye. "Purple noodles, please!"

"Zander, honey, we don't have any purple noodles, but we have hummus." My mother, bless her soul, is not really paying attention to what is going on, or maybe she's just ignoring it all. She smiles at me and hands Zander a plate of hummus that will undoubtedly end up in Eric's lap. "And Paisley, they were in bed together. Adults sometimes discuss such things with each other at night when…"

"Mom!" Holly looks mortified for me. She and I have always looked alike, and her skin is now as red as the tomatoes on the salad. She cringes as she brushes her dark hair out of her eyes. "Stop talking about Eric and Everly like that. No one wants to hear about it. I thought they were doing something else, like maybe standing on top of a building."

"Oh no, we definitely want to hear this. Tell us more about how you got Everly to agree to let you name your baby, Eric."

I turn and look at Jason; until now, I've pretty much forgotten he's been sitting only a few seats down from me. His grin only grows wider when Zander accidentally stabs Eric in the thigh with his favorite airplane fork, chortling triumphantly when Eric swears loudly. Eric stands up abruptly, Zander still in his arms.

"That's it. We're leaving," Eric barks, still holding on to Zander, now slightly askew as if he's forgotten he's holding on to him. "Everly, let's go."

Zander grins at me, his smile so innocently happy because he thinks he's going with us. He waves his fork again, this time yelling out very cheerfully, "To the trucks!"

I lean back in my seat, completely overwhelmed by my family. Willow has just returned from feeding Woody, and she's looking at me sympathetically, her brown eyes flicking back and forth between Eric and me. Forrest is still snickering, trying to dislodge Zander from Eric's arms. It doesn't help that Zander is clinging on to Eric as though his life depends on it. My mother is watching everything with a very serene expression on her face, and I know she's thinking how wonderful it is to have all of her family in one place.

"You're right. I think we should go." I stand up, feeling sort of guilty that I haven't even eaten my food. Eric is trying his best to look like he's not losing a fight against a toddler, and his friends are doing their best to pretend they aren't seeing him lose. I catch sight of Karl watching the entire thing with a very, very relaxed expression on his face. He smiles at me, sort of giddy and slow, and he motions until my mother looks over at him.

"Ma'am, is there any way, please, that I could lie down? I am really tired. Like, so so soooo tired," he slurs, and to my horror I realize he's eaten everything on his plate and then some.

"I'm going with Eric! Not to bed!"

Zander shrieks his words again as Forrest finally succeeds in their game of tug of war, and I look up, locking eyes with Eric.

He looks like he suddenly regrets every decision he's ever made that's led him to this point.

 

 

"Goodbye, Everly. It was really nice to see you again."

Willow hands me something that's wrapped up, her quiet voice barely audible over the humming of the cicadas and the rumbling of the truck engines. I sometimes think Forrest married her because she is the exact opposite of what he grew up with. She's quiet and calm, never loud or boisterous in any way. She's the perfect example of someone who lives in Amity; her blonde hair is always long and tangled, her feet are always bare, and her serene smile is always in place. There is a kindness and gentleness to her, and I think my brother appreciates that after growing up in such a busy family. It's soothing. I'm walking down the pathway with her, enjoying the peacefulness of the night after leaving my mother's raucous house.

"It's your dinner. And a few other things. I know Eric looks like he didn't have much fun, but we're glad you both joined us."

She moves to hug me goodbye, and I feel a rush of affection towards her. She is far too kind to ignore the fact that Eric looked like he was out of his mind at the chaos, and far too nice to point out that I probably shared the same look. I can't deny that the quiet of our apartment sounds wonderful right now, much more preferable than the frenzy we just left behind.

"Thank you, Willow."

I hug her tightly. I can hear Eric chatting with Forrest on the other side, the two of them discussing just how disgusting hummus is. Eric laughs loudly at whatever is being said, and I almost wish I could see whatever it is they are doing. He and my brother seem to have bonded in some strange way. Maybe it was the terrible beer, or maybe it's the way that Forrest doesn't exactly buy in to the whole Amity peace and love thing. Eric seems to like his honesty, and Forrest seems to like Eric for the very same reason.

Before I can try to eavesdrop, Willow hugs me again, smiles, then takes a step back towards the building. She was the one to finally convince Zander that there are things more fun than Eric, and she distracted him by promising to let him feed the horses.

"You'll take care of her, right? Like, she won't get left behind while you head off into some battle and die? I know what you do there. I know you guys get sent out all the time. I just don't want her coming back here without you."

Forrest's words float up over the truck. They are low enough that I am not supposed to hear them, nor the worry that weighs behind them. I freeze, waiting for Willow to say something, but she has already gone after Zander, her blonde hair glinting softly in the moonlight.

Instead, I wait motionless until I hear Eric's response, his words just as weighted.

"I promised I'd never hurt her. And I won't."

 

 

I fall asleep on the way home.

We left at the same time as all the other trucks. The night was clear and bright, the air cool now that the sun had set, and the truck was warm. I scooted closer to Eric, letting my head rest on his shoulder, the thick fabric of his jacket still against my cheek.

"Thank you for joining me," I tell him quietly, my eyes already starting to close. More than anything, I wish I could just stay awake. Lately, it seems that I am more tired than ever, even though Dr. Denten had promised I would have more energy soon. It seems that no matter how much I sleep, it's never enough, and it's making me sort of nuts.

But I can't help it.

Eric drives quickly, as though he's driven the route a million times before, and it's sort of soothing. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes my hand.

"Of course," he answers, and my eyes close again as we change lanes, speeding up as we leave the outskirts of Amity. "And by the way… one child. That's all we are having. Ever."

I fall asleep before I can tell him I agree with him.


	56. Wedding Bells

On Monday, my favorite sundress doesn't fit quite the way it used to.

I frown at my reflection in the large mirror on our bedroom wall, pulling the straps in a futile attempt to move the dress up a bit. I've never paid much attention to how low cut any of my dresses are, and in reality, none of them are all that revealing. But this one suddenly seems like it has shrunk a few sizes, especially in the top.

"Is that what you're wearing to work?"

Eric's voice breaks through my struggling, and I turn to find him watching me with a funny look on his face. It's not his usual amused expression, it's more like the disapproving one my father might have given me before I would skip out to meet my friends.

"Um, well, I was going to, but it seems like it shrank a bit. It feels sort of short." I stare at my dress in spite, wondering just when it chose to betray me like this.

"It is really short," he answers, now sounding a bit irritable. He crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at me for a good minute while I pull the front down an inch.

I turn away from him, scowling at the mirror, trying to pull the dress down but also up at the same time. I knew that this day would eventually arrive, but I didn't expect it to happen overnight. My pregnancy started off with a bang, then fell into a lull of sleeping — and thinking about sleeping — and that appeared to be it. I figured I could go for most of the pregnancy almost incognito; we still haven't made any public announcements aside from telling our close friends, and I haven't bought a single thing meant for someone having a baby. In fact, the thought of Dauntless maternity clothes seems downright ridiculous.

But as Christina so subtly pointed out, I now have way more to deal with, and my wardrobe doesn't really accommodate the changes that are occurring. I've never been one who absolutely needs to wear a bra, but there's no chance I can get away with not wearing one now unless I want everyone in Dauntless staring at my chest. It doesn't help the situation that my stomach is no longer flat; it isn't even sort of flat. It's easy to tell there's a definite curve there, one that causes the front of my dress to rise up drastically.

"It's not that short," I say, trying to sound convincing. I turn to the side, and I can feel Eric's steely gaze on me. He has never once asked me to dress any differently. In my entire time in Dauntless, Eric has let me get away with wearing things that make me happy. I couldn't force myself to dress like I was marching into battle when I wasn't, and I also couldn't force myself into some skimpy attire that wasn't me.

But I get the feeling that walking through Dauntless with swollen boobs, the start of a pregnancy belly, and a too short sundress isn't on the list of things Eric would like me to do.

Eric sighs heavily, and I hear his boots walk across our bedroom. I temporarily give up on trying to adjust the dress when Eric hands me a sweater.

"It's cold in your office," he points out, sounding practical as ever as I raise my eyebrow at him.

"It's not that cold," I answer, taking the sweater and staring up at the adorably grumpy expression on his face. "And you were just complaining about how hot your office was the other day. You said you didn't think the air was working properly."

He squints at me as though I'm speaking a foreign language, then he shrugs. "But you're always cold. Better safe than sorry, Amity." He glances at my face one more time, his stare sliding down to my bare shoulders, then back to my eyes. "I'll see you for lunch."

Eric steps closer to me, his large frame seeming to take up all the space in the room, and he smiles down at me before he kisses me quickly. I wish he'd kiss me longer, but he pulls away, scowling.

"Don't be late," he calls out, and I wave him off, tossing the sweater onto the dresser once he's gone.

 

 

"When did she send this to you?"

Daniel blinks at me through his glasses before shoving them further up his nose. He looks the most relaxed I've ever seen him. Gone are the stiff necktie and the overly-starched suit jacket I've always seen him in. Today he's dressed casually by Erudite standards: dark dress slacks and a lighter dress shirt that's not even buttoned all the way to the top, and not a tie in sight. He'd been smiling until I'd told him Blythe had sent his things to us, then his face had darkened considerably.

"She sent them a few weeks ago, but I forgot all about it until you got here."

I smile at him, pleased that Daniel is here. His visit is a welcome surprise. He'd caught me in my office, sweater-less, but in a different, less form-fitting sundress, typing up an email to Jack Kang. Of all the leaders of the factions, he is the one that I know the least about. I know he has a loyalty to Dauntless, and he'd do whatever he could to help us find Evelyn and prosecute her, but I feel like I should know him more than just having attended a few of the same meetings.

So, I sent a request to have lunch with him.

Part of my job as an ambassador to the factions is to develop relationships that will become beneficial in more ways than one. It isn't just an alliance coming together; there's an underlying current of understanding and foresight that could come from knowing the ins and outs of these people.

I am already close with Johanna on both a personal and professional level. She's always respected my position in Dauntless, never once using my past life in Amity against me. I know I could talk with her and she'll listen, really listen, because she trusts me. Cara is the same; she showed me a friendly, inquisitive nature with her questions about my relationship with Eric, and she's young enough that it's easy to forge a working relationship with her.

But Jack Kang isn't quite so easy, and neither is Abnegation. I have very little in common with Jack, and Abnegation seems hesitant to appoint just one person for me to work with. I have already tried to schedule a meeting with Andrew Prior, but he either rarely checks his messages or he believes using any technology is too selfish. So, unless I send either a carrier pigeon or Karl, I am forced to temporarily look to the other factions. And that leaves Candor as my next option.

Daniel's arrival has provided a pleasant break. He was curious about what I was doing, and I was happy to share my plan with him. He seemed interested when I told him why I wanted to meet with Jack, and I knew he was no stranger to having alliances in his field. He told me he'd actually met Jack a few times, and that Jack has a vested interest in the way the brain works while one is speaking the truth vs. when they are not. It's a subject I'm sure Daniel could talk about for hours, but it's completely foreign to me.

Luckily, he suddenly lost all interest when he heard the news that Blythe had mailed us his belongings.

"I'll show you."

I motion for Daniel to follow me towards the guest bedroom where I'd once slept. It still feels as cold as it always did, but it now seems exceptionally uninviting. It's odd to think I spent weeks sleeping in here, just a room away from Eric, at the very start of my training.

Daniel comes to a halt in the doorway, surveying the room quickly. There's nothing out of the ordinary in here, but it seems rather bland compared to the rest of the apartment. Eric now uses the room to store boxes from his office; I've wondered if he'd care if I started to clear them out. I've been thinking that maybe the baby would sleep in here when he's old enough, but I haven't brought it up to Eric yet, and it feels a little presumptuous to start moving out his stuff. Not to mention the fact that Eric seems like the type of person to save all his old memos.

"Has she mailed you anything before?" Daniel asks curiously. He steps into the room a few feet, and watches as I open the closet doors and pull out the box Blythe sent. A few days after it arrived, I'd shoved it into the closet so I didn't have to look at it.

"Never. But she also sent Eric's old stuff, too. I think she cleaned out your house." I slide the box over to him, and he frowns deeply.

"It's not my house anymore. I have a new house now," he announces, and he crouches down to open up the box. "But I would like to have you and Eric come by to see my new place when you have time. I have a few extra rooms there."

"Really?" I shove my bangs out of my eyes, realizing that I've neglected to pay them any attention in quite a while. "We could come stay with you?"

"Of course. I have a room set aside for the baby. I thought maybe eventually you could all stay…" he trails off as he pulls out a day planner. He opens it up and flips through it. "I know Eric won't want to, but you and the baby might. You might get the sudden urge to get out of here for a few days, and I can't see Eric saying no to staying with me."

I can, but I don't tell Daniel that since I've already made up my mind that I will be able to convince him.

"I'd like that," I tell him, and his expression brightens considerably, despite the box in front of him. He rummages through, occasionally pulling something out and squinting at it.

"She sent over a stuffed dog, too. I thought maybe Blythe gave it to him, but Eric said it was from his nanny?" I sit on the bed, watching Daniel sort through the last remnants of his life with Blythe. He closes the box up and nods at me.

"I don't know about a stuffed dog, but it would have only come from her. He had a nanny from the day we brought him home."

I frown at his words, wondering just how Daniel could have missed the toy. He notices, because he looks a bit embarrassed.

"I had just accepted a new position at the hospital, and the hours were far more strenuous than I'd imagined. Blythe was eager to head back to work, and she didn't deal well with a newborn. So, we found someone to help. She was from Abnegation, and she adored Eric. She was the only one he really seemed to bond with." Daniel looks at me, really looks at me, and he smiles gently. "Though I'm sure you've already surmised that Eric wasn't exactly an easy child. He never made it easy on either of us, but that's really no excuse."

I nod, watching him close the box up, his face still tense.

"I'll take this with me when I leave. Would you like to join me for lunch? Unless you're making something here..."

"I wasn't planning on making anything. Clyde's?" I suggest, willing to risk the greasy fries in order to hang out with my father-in-law just a little bit longer. Daniel smiles again, and I notice him very discreetly kick the box on his way out of the room.

 

 

Clyde's is a shit show, but I don't mind at all.

Daniel and I find a booth right away, slipping past the swarms of Dauntless members vying for a spot along the wooden bar. I notice a few familiar faces waiting, and most people throw me a smile as I walk past. It's a change from the nosey glares and the suspicious glances, and I happily smile back at them. A few of them turn back to glance at me, but it doesn't bother me. Their stares are probably more for my companion than anything else.

The line to order from Lucy is three or four men deep, and the manager looks frantic when another wave of men walks in. I can see the servers joking as they quickly fill drink after drink, and a sudden thought crosses my mind as I order a drink from the waitress.

They're all men and women from the patrol squads, and they seem to be celebrating something. I watch a few of them as they clink their mugs together, cheerfully slopping their drinks everywhere.

"What's going on today? Is it some sort of Dauntless holiday that I'm not aware of?" Daniel asks, his eyes glued to the commotion as one of Karl's friends balances on the edge of a barstool on his knees. It tips a little sideways and he laughs, his red cheeks flushed from the rush of alcohol and stupidity as he attempts to keep it upright; it finally tips all the way over onto its side, spilling him into a crowd of men.

"Not that I'm aware of." I shake my head, smiling brightly when I see Eric storm through the crowd. He shoves a few men out of his way, giving them a dirty look as they tumble to the ground. They are already drunk from their cocktail hour, their reactions slowed down enough that they don't realize he's not in the mood to wait for them to move. "But Eric's here."

Daniel watches his son with a funny look on his face. I suddenly wonder if he realizes how much power and authority Eric has here, or if he's just always assumed that Eric gets what he wants by sheer force. I can't help but notice the way he observes Eric's march to our table, especially the way the newer patrol members shrink away from him.

"Hi," I greet him, reaching for him as he sits down beside me. I grin widely as he hugs me, burying his face in my hair and sighing deeply. When he moves his head away from me he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask, holding onto his arm and pulling him back towards me. The angle is more than awkward; Eric is sitting facing his dad, and the table feels strangely close to me. I twist sideways a bit, and Eric grunts. I briefly wonder if he's really mad that I didn't wear the damned sweater, but it's warm in Clyde's, and there's no way he could expect me to swelter in here.

"Nothing," he finally answers, shrugging his shoulders. He sounds grouchier than ever, but I don't let go of him. "I just ran into Four in the hallway and he told me to thank you for talking to him the other day. And seeing as how I don't remember my wife going off to talk to him, I told him to fuck off."

"Eric, that's not…" I start to say that's not nice, but he cuts me off by glaring at me.

"What on Earth would you need to discuss with Four?" he hisses. He looks sort of livid now; his handsome face has the same threatening sneer that it did when I once asked him why Four let his class have Dauntless cake. I rack my brain trying to think of what could really be bothering him, because I know it's not really Four.

But I come up with nothing.

I do stop myself before I blurt out my entire conversation with Four just to pacify Eric. While there was nothing said confidentially, I feel that Four told me about his mother not as his superior or as someone who would relay that conversation to Eric, but as his friend. So, I stall by chewing on my cheek and reaching for my soda.

"I went to the control room to get away from Arlene. He happened to be in there, and I sat and talked while he looked at a few patrol routes. There was no secret discussion that went on. I just didn't want to listen to Arlene lecture me about vitamins any longer."

At my words, Eric's shoulders relax, and the pissed off look on his face lessens. "Did the twerp at least decide to accept the position? Or is Number Boy still content to sit in the control room for the rest of his days?"

"Are you asking because you really care?" I ask him innocently. I look up at him, smiling when his eyes narrow in mock annoyance.

"I'm asking because Max is on my ass to replace Britney. He spent our entire meeting talking about 'we need someone, and we need them now.' I told him to fuck off, too."

I'm glad that's the real reason for his annoyance and that it has nothing to do with Four — or my lack of a sweater. Eric likes things to go his way, and I'm sure Max's lecture on the importance of finding a new leader infuriated him. Before I can reply, our waitress reappears; she sets down a beer for Eric, along with two more. I'm not sure who they're for until I see Jason show up, followed by Rylan.

The two of them push their way through the crowd, shoving people gleefully to the side as they walk through. There is a hint of amusement on their faces as they watch the patrol members act like morons, and their expressions brighten when they see Daniel sitting with us.

"No way!" Jason exclaims, high-fiving Daniel, who stands up to greet them. Jason then slides into the booth, taking one of the beers along with him. "Daniel, lovely to see you. And what's up, Everly? You look nice today. I see carrying Eric's spawn hasn't sucked the soul out of you yet."

Jason winks, taking a large swig of his beer and motioning for Rylan to sit beside him. He ignores the death stare from Eric, instead turning to look over at Rylan, who still isn't sitting. He's talking to Daniel, his face serious until Daniel claps him on the shoulder and gestures for him to sit down.

"I'm fine, really. But thank you, Rylan. Everything's gone rather smoothly."

Rylan nods solemnly. I'm surprised to see that he seems a bit thrown off by Daniel's divorce, but he seems better when he sits down, rolling his eyes at Jason and shoving him a bit.

"Scoot over."

Jason obliges and turns back to face Eric and me. I'm still holding onto Eric's arm, and I finally let go to reach for my drink.

"I do think Four's going to take the leadership position. We didn't exactly talk about it, but I think he knows it would be good for him," I answer confidently, and it's Eric's turn to roll his eyes.

"I don't care if he takes the position. I just care that we don't end up with some half-assed replacement in Britney's place. They brought another three men in today, and I couldn't get away long enough to attend the interrogations. I'm not going to get stuck training someone to file paperwork when I could be doing something else."

"Are you saying Four would be self-sufficient enough that you wouldn't have to spend hours training him? And you could go back to torturing the members of Dauntless?" I tease him, taking another sip of my drink. The waitress hovers while Jason starts a heated debate about ordering a towering stack of onion rings, and I nudge Eric. "Think how easy it would be. Think of all the time you would have to do other things."

I can tell he's pretending to consider it as his shitty mood dissipates. For a brief second he glares at me, though there is no malice behind it. He finally smirks, then reaches for his beer.

"Be careful what you wish for, Amity. I can't spend all my free time in bed with you."

I can feel the blush surge across my cheeks, and I stare at the bubbles in my drink so I won't laugh or look at his friends.

"Speaking of which, are you really going to let Eric name the baby?" Jason interrupts, handing his menu to Rylan after giving in to the irresistible allure of deep fried onion rings. "I certainly wouldn't let him name our child."

"I don't think you have to worry about that since you and I aren't having a child," Eric retorts, and he glances down at me. "Did you pick what you want to eat?"

"I think I'm getting a salad. And to answer your question, Jason, I haven't decided if I'm letting Eric name our baby or not. It depends on what he's picked out," I answer brightly, not bothering to look at the menu. I decided the minute that Daniel suggested we get lunch that I'd have the only non-fried item on the menu.

"It's a surprise," Eric snorts, and he reaches over the back of the booth to put his arm around my shoulder and pull me against him. "Everly, you promised me that I could name our child. I can't imagine you'd want to take that back."

I might actually feel a twinge of guilt at his words if he weren't snickering as he said them.

"You haven't even told me the names you're thinking of," I point out, leaning into him.

Daniel smiles at the both of us, setting his menu down. "What names are you considering? Anything you'd care to share?"

"I just told you. It's a surprise. You'll all have to wait," Eric says, ignoring my look at him. I shake my head at Daniel, but Eric continues on, still pleased at his claim on naming our child. "Did you tell Daniel how I got you to agree to let me name the baby?"

"I don't think he wants to know that information," I hastily retort, looking up as Lucy hovers near the table, listening intently. I quickly order my salad, handing her the menu and trying hard not to look at Jason. He looks like he might explode, and I can only guess he's struggling to bite back the knowledge of exactly which tactics Eric employed to secure the baby's naming rights.

"I am a little curious. I never thought Eric would be so interested in baby names," Daniel offers up, and I shake my head furiously.

"Maybe I'll just let him. Because he's so sweet," I grin, and this time, even Daniel can't help but laugh.

"Of course," he winks at me, and he hands Lucy his menu. "I can't think of any other reason you'd leave such a grand decision to Eric."

Eric snorts, and he starts to say something, but I don't really pay attention.

I'm distracted, not by Daniel or Jason or even Rylan, who's still looking a bit glum, but by the appearance of Four. He walks through the room with his mouth set in a firm line. He doesn't look as stressed out anymore, he looks determined. I watch as he scours the room, clearly looking for someone. So far no one else has noticed that he's here except for me. Eric and his dad are now talking about one of Daniel's assistants, and I can feel Eric stiffen a bit every time Daniel says the name Camille.

Four finally stops in place, his fingertips grazing the only empty table in the place, the one sort of diagonal from where I'm sitting. I watch him blink at Daniel, then the rest of the table, mentally cataloguing everyone sitting here. From the look on his face, it's clear that he doesn't want to interrupt us. So I'm happy when he meets my stare, holding it for a few beats before he nods his head once.

I nod back at him, and then he's gone, slipping back into the sea of black and disappearing before anyone else can notice he was here.

I return my focus back to Daniel and his talk about Camille, pleased beyond measure that Four just told me he's ready to talk about accepting the open leadership position.

"Get him to tell you the names. Lord only knows what he's picked out."

Daniel whispers the words in my ear as he hugs me goodbye. He holds me tightly, and I suddenly feel a little emotional that he's leaving, even though I just spent the better part of my day with him. I nod against his chest until he lets go of me, reaching for his phone. I stay still, ignoring my own beeping phone as he reads a message on his and smiles widely.

"I'll see you soon. Maybe you can have your next appointment in Erudite."

He says goodbye to me one more time and picks up his box of belongings; my heart sinks in my chest a bit as I stand by the exit of Dauntless, watching him as he walks towards the car that's waiting for him. I finally turn away when my phone beeps again.

 

 

Eric's kitchen is spotless.

I almost hesitate to touch anything, because everything gleams as though it's brand new, but I've been bitten by the urge to make something sweet, and I'm not going to be deterred by the fact that it looks like no one has ever touched anything in here.

Eric's kitchen has been a pivotal backdrop in our apartment. It's the first place he ever kissed me, and I can still remember how it felt to have his lips pressing against mine, sweetly frantic, as I sat perched upon his counter. I can still remember how it felt to finally have him touch me in a way that didn't involve priming me to kill someone. It had made me feel alive, blood rushing through my veins as Eric's fingers had dug into my scalp, pulling me against him as though he was declaring that I was his, even way back then.

Lots of other emotionally-charged things happened in this kitchen, too. It's the first place I saw Eric crack under the pressure of balancing Jeanine's ever-increasing demands with the desire to simply stay home and spend the evening with me. It's the place where I realized Eric no longer slept well without me. It's the place of his confession that he'd killed before and that he'd kill for me if I asked him to, and where I had realized the day would come when I would want him to. It's also the place where I realized Eric could cook rather well, and that it was in his nature to be well-prepared, now more so than ever.

As I rummage for the ingredients I need, I notice his pantry is fully stocked and totally organized, with not so much as a noodle out of place. It makes me stop and think for a moment. Eric seems excessively prepared, as though he's expecting that Dauntless might not get a shipment from Amity. I've often wondered just how fragile that system really is. If there were ever some sort of uprising or unrest amongst the factions, perhaps prompted by some bitch named Evelyn, the delicate balance between the factions might just dissolve. I try to imagine each one faltering because of the others. Riots breaking out because of a lack of soldiers, the council dissolving because there would be no one to uphold and enforce their laws, people going without food because it wouldn't be harvested or delivered.

It just shows how important it is to maintain this peace that she spoke about, even if she didn't really mean it.

I shove those thoughts away as I measure out flour and sugar, neatly crack a few eggs apart, and whisk it all together. After lunch, I'd found myself with some free time. Eric had headed back to his office and said he had to draft something up, and I'd happily headed home to a quiet apartment. For once I wasn't tired, nor did I have anything pressing to do other than wait for Jack's email. So I'd decided to bake a surprise for Eric.

Baking was something I loved to do when I was younger. While I'd never paid an ounce of attention to my mother's cooking, I had learned to bake. But it hadn't been my mother who taught me, it had been my father.

It makes me feel sort of down for a moment, my heart heavy in my chest as I think of him, wondering if he'd still be proud of me. I try to imagine what he'd think of my life in Dauntless. As I blend the brown sugar and butter into the bowl, I decide that he would be proud of me. I think he'd be happy that I'm here, doing what I always wanted, alongside someone I love so wholeheartedly.

I add a bit of vanilla, enjoying the way the apartment is starting to smell like my old home, and I mix it up slowly. I want to savor this moment, even though I could make a thousand cookies if I wanted to. I nearly lose track of time as I add in chocolate chips, wondering vaguely if Amity ever sneaks their peace serum into any of the food they send out. It makes me smirk to think that they could — that even though they are often deemed one of the weakest factions, they could easily have everyone tripping over themselves, high off of their asses.

I pause, searching for a large spoon to scoop out my cookie dough, and I wonder if Eric has ever had peace serum. He told me Karl only needed to take a good nap to work through the large dose of peace serum he ingested at my mother's house; Eric seemed to be rather entertained by what happened. They were now working together more and more, and I know he has grown mildly affectionate towards him in a weird way. It's almost as though he sees himself in Karl, though Karl has probably never thought of tricking anyone into marrying him.

I neatly line up the rows of cookie dough, pleased at how even it looks. My father used to let me help him, never caring that my trays of cookie dough looked like a child had lined them up, or that they were all different sizes. I can remember the way he would laugh, cheerfully helping me shove my tray into the oven and telling me to go play outside and that he'd call for me when they were ready. As I got older, our time spent baking together tapered off. He was busy with work, I was busy with Landon, and we never seemed to end up in the kitchen together anymore.

It makes my eyes feel like they might burst with unshed tears as I set the timer, wiping my hands on the kitchen towel. I hadn't thought of him in a long time, but today, after seeing Daniel and listening to him talk about having rooms for Eric, me, and the baby to stay in, I couldn't help but think of my dad. It seems unfair that he'll never get to meet his grandchild.

I start on my second tray of cookies, allowing myself to get completely lost in lining them up. I jump when I feel hands grasp at my waist, pulling me back until I collide into a hard chest. I grin as Eric holds me against him, bending down to rest his chin on top of my head.

"What on Earth are you making, Amity? Should I have a rescue squad on standby for when the kitchen catches fire?"

He mumbles the words into my hair, his grip tightening on my hips.

"Funny. I'm making chocolate chip cookies," I tell him, leaning back against him. He still smells clean and fresh from his shower this morning. I wasn't quite expecting him home so soon, but I'm delighted he left early.

"How many are you making? Enough for all of Dauntless?"

His words are lost into the skin of my neck, where his mouth slowly works its way down. My brain seems to fumble for an answer, and I reach behind him to grasp at his hair.

"A few dozen," I swallow, my eyes closing as he continues on his very obvious mission. I know what he's doing, and I don't mind one bit. This isn't like the time when Eric suffered through two long weeks of me falling asleep before him; this time, it seems neither of us has been capable of being awake at the same time as the other.

As a result, Eric's actions have a sense of purposeful urgency to them. He is enjoying his attentive perusal of my skin, his fingers digging further into my hips. I sigh happily at his actions, sulking as he breaks away for a split second to move my hair off my neck and yank me back a step, until I'm nearly standing on his feet.

"Did you make anything else?" he asks lowly, kissing down the juncture of my neck and onto my shoulder. I shake my head. If he's hoping for dinner, he's definitely out of luck.

"Nope. But we could always have dessert for dinner," I tell him, tilting my head to the side.

Eric smirks against my skin. "I don't mind that. I had planned on making you dinner, but I didn't expect to find you in the kitchen."

His words slip over my exposed skin, and I suddenly realize I must look like the doting wife from Amity that everyone thought I was. After all, I am standing in his kitchen in a dress, one that's probably too short and falls off my shoulders in exactly the right way. Add my bare feet and the messy hair that I'd pulled out of the bun sometime after lunch, and I am exactly that: Everly Coulter, Eric's wife, making him cookies instead of an actual meal.

I bet he would have found the situation downright laughable if you'd asked him about it a few years ago, but I can tell he doesn't mind it one bit, especially when I feel his hips press into my ass.

"Come with me," he instructs, pulling me along towards the bedroom, as though I'd ever be able to tell him no.

I can barely even tell him yes, or even a groaned yes yes yes, as he thrusts up into me; I'm carefully balanced atop his lap, my dress shoved up over my thighs. It turns out that the sight of me baking cookies was enough to push him over the edge. He barely made it to the kitchen table before his lips crashed into mine, his hands all over me, frantically pushing the gauzy dress out of the way. They skimmed over my sides, sliding up and over my ribs until he could palm my breasts, then squeezing until I whimpered his name. The feeling of his hands on me felt just as brand new as it had the first night we'd slept together.

I couldn't quite find the words to tell him how good it felt, even through the fabric of my dress. Being pregnant hasn't just heightened my desire to sleep all the time, it has intensified every single touch from him. I nearly lost it when he worked my dress down my chest, one hand easily undoing the clasp of my bra and tossing it aside without a second thought. His hands were instantly back on my bare skin, warm and strong as I spread my legs wider over his.

He had been dressed, though not in his complete uniform. A plain white t-shirt, still freshly starched to perfection, except for where I'd grabbed onto it, and a pair of his black boxer briefs were all that was left by the time he pulled me onto his lap. It hadn't taken more than a few seconds before the boxers were halfway down his legs, then eventually kicked off, landing somewhere on the dining room floor.

"Everly."

He grunts my name, no longer taking it slow or easy as his pace increases. I don't think he came into the kitchen with the intent to have us wind up half naked with him buried inside me on his dining room chairs, but I don't care. He feels good — blissfully, stupidly, wonderfully good — even more so when I feel his fingers tighten on my thighs.

"I missed you, Amity," he grits out quietly.

When I look up at him, forcing my eyes open and onto the sight of him before me, I can't help but smile widely. He's staring at me through hooded eyes, darkened with a lusty expression. It's exactly what I want to see. Eric, the man who'd claimed he couldn't be gentle, had been nothing but gentle these past few weeks. He never so much as made me work the tiniest bit during our nights together, taking the utmost caution to ensure everything was okay.

It was driving me insane.

I contemplated storming into his office, maybe conveniently forgetting underwear beneath my dress, or maybe just flat out asking him not to be so sweet. It wasn't in his nature to act like this, and while the fact that he did was obnoxiously alluring, I just wanted him to throw me on the bed like he did before.

So, him slamming me down atop him, hard enough that I nearly see stars in the best way possible, is just what I want. I ignore his syrupy sweet confession that he missed me, and instead I claw at him, moving my hips forward urgently. I don't want him to stop because he suddenly realizes that maybe we're about to knock things off the kitchen table, or he remembers that he forgot to lock the door and one of his stupid friends might come over because they decided they want to have beers right now.

"Harder," I urge him on, enjoying the way he lets out a low groan. "Don't be so careful. I just want you like this," I tell him, and his head jerks upright, even more so when I yank the sundress up and over my head, throwing it to the side. He blinks in surprise, his eyes working over me as though this is the first time I've undressed before him, and his lips part open when I lean back, balancing with my hands on him, enjoying every second of him thrusting into me.

"If you stop, I'll kill you," I warn him, digging my own fingers into the muscle of his thighs. I can feel my long hair grazing against my back, and I suddenly feel free and wild, like we're out in the wide open instead of his kitchen. "I mean it."

I can see him raise an eyebrow at me, but I don't care. His fingers creep up higher, and I whimper when he takes his goddamned time moving them where I want them.

"Not there, higher," I demand, growing impatient. I've missed this, the raw and frantic feeling of when Eric loses control. Before, he was being so cautious, groaning my name into my neck as he came, making sure that I was happily satisfied and that I had almost no stress placed on me whatsoever. Now, this is nothing more than Eric being turned on and unable to make it another twenty steps to our bed.

"Fuck, fuck fuuuuck!" I eloquently express how I feel as Eric's fingers toy right where I want them to be, stroking my clit with just enough pressure to make me tense up. Being pregnant is suddenly seeming like the best, most brilliant plan we could have ever come up with. Everything feels so intensified, to the point where I could happily stay here all day, in this exact position, teetering on the edge of total bliss.

Eric clearly doesn't share my same thoughts. He grunts against me, tightening his hold and trying to keep himself from speeding up.

"Everly, for fuck's sake hurry up because I'm not going to…"

Eric is saying something between clenched teeth, but I'm not really listening. Whatever he's doing right now is far superior to what he's been doing, and I drop my head back in delight.

"You feel so good," I tell him, trying to both move closer to him and spread my legs wider. I'd only had the pleasure of being in charge like this once, but I can tell it's not about to happen for much longer, because Eric bucks his own hips up into mine and reaches one hand up to yank me up by my hair.

"One minute, Everly, for the love of God, you have…" he snarls the words at me, though he's not the least bit upset. His face is red and tight, he's breathing heavily, and he sort of gasps as he holds onto me tighter. "…one more minute."

I don't need another minute. Every single inch of me is slowly giving in to the sensation building inside. I can feel my thighs tense up as the warm feeling rushes over me, and I feel like I might be burning up alive.

"Eric…"

I try to say more, but I can't. I come in a spectacular fashion, hovering over Eric while collapsing onto his thighs, my heart racing as I tense up around him, driving him directly into his own orgasm. He groans my name, his grip loosening in my hair as my head drops to rest against his. We stay there for a moment, him still inside me, until I hear a tiny ding coming from the kitchen.

"Everly," Eric lets go of my hair, using his hands to tilt my head to look at him. I can't help but smile lazily, completely sated and ultimately boneless. I try to slow down my breathing, but my heart rate picks up as he brushes my hair out of my eyes and kisses me once more.

"I think your cookies are done."

 

I knock on Tris's door a little after nine. I'd planned to come by earlier, but I'd gotten distracted by Eric and our dinner.

I know Tris just got off work a little bit ago, and that this should be the perfect time to find her at home. There's a chance she is already asleep, but I'm hoping she isn't, so I wait patiently for her to answer the door.

Christina had texted me a few times earlier today before she'd given up and just called. She sounded desperate when I answered, and she blurted out just how hurt she was by Tris's refusal to show either of us her wedding dress. I tried to reassure her that it wasn't anything personal, that Tris just isn't as into getting dressed up as Christina is. I also pointed out that we should let her wear whatever she wants, because would Christina want someone critiquing her dress?

The answer was no, of course, but it left me thinking about Christina's call all afternoon. While I knew that Tris was fully capable of picking out her own dress, there had to be a deeper reason why she hadn't shown it to either of us. She'd accompanied me on a few shopping trips, always offering up a polite opinion, and she shared my lack of love for Dauntless attire.

I've been lucky, because ever since coming to Dauntless, I've never had to wear any sort of uniform unless I knew it was expected of me. Tris doesn't have to wear a uniform, either, but she seems to stick to an unofficial Dauntless dress code, unlike me. But her wedding day is different. And knowing her background, it makes me worry about a few things. She might show up completely covered up in the first hideously ill-fitting dress she could find, or she might have chosen something completely unlike her just because she felt like she should for everyone else's sake.

That's why I am standing here now, with a plate of cookies that I made, patiently waiting for her to open the door. I can't let her show up to her wedding looking ridiculous, and as much as I wanted Christina to come with me, I knew this would work out way better if I came here by myself.

"Everly?"

Tris finally opens the door, rubbing her eyes tiredly, and I hesitate for just a split second, hoping I didn't wake her. "Are you okay? What time is it?"

"It's early. It's only like, eight fifty-fivish. I came by to say hi, and I made you cookies!" I hold the plate up at her, smiling widely when she grins. Dauntless really seem to enjoy their desserts, and Eric and Tris are no exception. I'd caught Eric glaring when I put a handful of the cookies on a plate to take with me. I didn't even bother pointing out to him that there were at least a dozen other cookies he could eat, or that I could always make him more.

"Come on in," she offers, holding the door open for me. I half expect to find Four here, but her apartment is empty and quiet, and I quickly set my cookies on her counter. I turn and smile innocently, hoping she'll be open to what I'm about to say.

"Tris…" I start, but I'm interrupted before I can finish.

"I know why you're here, Everly. You don't have to pretend otherwise."

"You do?" I ask in surprise, and Tris nods in defeat.

"You want to see my wedding dress. Because Christina told you I wouldn't show her, right?" She sounds annoyed, but the look on her face tells me she's not terribly upset. "I haven't shown anyone because…. because I don't want you guys to tell me that it sucks."

"Why would we tell you that?" I ask, reaching for two of the cookies. I hand her one, and she smiles slightly as she takes it.

"It's just…it's not anything that I think you guys will like. Christina would tell me to burn it."

Oh fuck.

"Can I see it?" I try to sound calm, but instead I'm starting to panic. I can just imagine what she's picked out, but then I realize that it probably isn't that bad, nor will Four really care. He's marrying Tris because he loves her, and it won't matter how terrible her dress is. I eat a bite of my cookie, and Tris scrunches her nose up.

"Alright. But do you promise that you won't try to force me to the shops to pick something else out tonight?"

I nod my head, hoping I can follow through with this promise. At the very least, I can take her down there tomorrow. I silently follow her through her apartment, into her bedroom, and I wait while she rifles through the smallest closet I've ever seen. I do notice a few of what appear to be Four's shirts hanging up, and the sight makes me a smile a bit.

"Here."

She all but shoves the fabric at me, and I try to keep my smile in place.

"Tris, um…this seems like…well, it seems like it's a lot of… uh… fabric," I fumble, trying to hold the dress up and figure out which way it goes. Tris isn't that much bigger than I am, and while she is further along in her pregnancy, there's no way she needs this much material unless she's trying to cover something up. The realization hits me on the head when I meet her gaze, and I notice she looks a little bit distressed.

"I know. But it's the one that made me look the least pregnant," she finally answers, her stare on the fabric in my hands. The material is nice; it's pretty and soft, and I know it wasn't cheaply made. But there's a lot of it, more than I can see anyone in Dauntless ever needing.

"Will you try it on? So I can see it," I ask brightly, pretending that she hasn't handed me enough fabric to outfit an entire patrol squad.

She hesitates, and for a minute, we lock eyes in the nicest standoff ever.

"It's not that bad. And even if it is, I can help you," I tell her, and I mean it. There's no way I'm letting my friend look ridiculous on her wedding day, and if there's a way to help her, I'll find it.

"Alright," Tris reluctantly agrees, and I hand her back the dress.

"I'll give you a second."

I hastily retreat to the kitchen, fumbling for my phone. I tap out a quick message to Christina, then delete the entire thing without sending it. I don't need her storming down here, shrieking over the mess of a dress that Tris has.

I eat another cookie while I rack my brain trying to come up with a quick solution. If I can't help fix the dress, we might have to buy another one. I haven't been down to the one store that sells formalwear since I helped Four buy a suit. I still need to buy a dress for Tris's wedding, and maybe I can convince her to come along with me if her dress is a lost cause.

I stare at my phone for a second before texting Eric to tell him this might take a minute.

"Okay, here it is."

I look up, my finger over the send key, and I squint at Tris.

The dress is far too big on her. There's too much fabric that gathers in odd places, the sleeves are too long, and the bottom will drag on the floor even if she wears heels. I bite my lip and motion for her to spin around. When she does, I let my face scrunch up for a split second. The back could be pretty if it were open, but this one sits high, and there's literally nothing romantic about this dress other than the fact that someone slapped the label of wedding dress on it and it happens to be white.

"It's… it's…" I pause as she turns back around, her eyes locking on mine, pleading for me to be kind. "It's far too much for you. I think it's way too big."

"Yeah, I didn't realize it wasn't quite my size."

I raise my eyebrows, and she grimaces.

"Well, I didn't try it on. I just bought it," she confesses, shrugging her shoulders. "I didn't have a lot of time. And I kept thinking about my mom and how disappointed she would be…"

"Why would your mom be disappointed?" I ask, and before Tris can answer, there's a knock on her door. Her eyes widen in horror, and my own widen in panic. She looks at me with an accusatory stare, and I shake my head furiously.

"I didn't call Christina, I swear." I hold my hands up at her and she pales a bit. I can't tell if she believes me or not, but she swallows and takes a few steps back, her eyes glued to the door as if it might fly open at any moment.

"Okay, okay. You get the door. I'm going to change before she comes in here."

Tris is gone before I can say another word, and I cautiously head towards her door, wincing at the loud knocking. Whoever it is, they are impatient, and the knocking doesn't stop until I open up the door.

To my scowling husband.

"Hello," I smile at him, and note the way he looks beyond irritated. I can't figure out why until Christina nearly knocks him out of the way, her eyes flashing at me. "Oh, hi Chris!"

"You're dead to me," she calls out over her shoulder, but she doesn't sound too mad.

Eric narrows his eyes and takes a step inside the apartment. He then puts his hands on his hips, and gives the room a cursory inspection. Once he finds nothing of any interest, he steps towards me, as Christina shrieks 'WHAT' from the bedroom and then there's a whole lot of muffled arguing going on.

"Next time you have a brilliant plan that involves Tris, just bring your lunatic friend with you. She's been at the apartment waiting for you, and when I told her you came here, she nearly lost her mind."

"Eric! You weren't supposed to tell her. Tris didn't want Christina throwing a fit over the dress…"

"I don't care," Eric interrupts, and he looks like he might stab the next person he sees. "I've had to listen to her for the past half hour, and never again. I don't care how much you like her. She never comes to the apartment again."

"She's dating your best friend," I point out, but Eric shakes his head.

"He's also banned."

"Everly!" Christina shrieks. I didn't even notice her walking out of the bedroom. Her eyes are wide, her hair is crazy, and she looks close to hyperventilating.

Eric eyes Christina as though she might dare try to talk to him again, but she ignores him and reaches to pull on my arm.

"We have a problem," she tells me lowly, and I nod in agreement.

"Why do you care if your mother knows you're pregnant?"

I ask the words carefully, a needle between my lips. I'd taken it upon myself to defuse the situation by attempting to fix the dress. We quickly discovered that Tris bought the dress as a final sale, and that meant we either salvaged it or she was out however many points she'd wasted on it, and I could see the anxiety that would cause.

But luck was on her side. I knew enough about sewing to show her what the dress could be like. I offered to pin it in place, and then we'd take it to the stores and ask if someone could tailor it. Worst case scenario, I could throw Eric's name in as a threat, and said tailor would immediately agree out of fear of being dangled over the chasm. Christina was all for the plan, and she was surprisingly quiet while letting me take control of the situation. We both kept Tris talking, asking trivial questions until Tris finally confessed that her biggest worry was that her mother won't be thrilled at the news of her pregnancy.

"Why would she be upset? It's not like you haven't been with Four for a long time," I point out, reaching to gather the fabric beneath the bust of the dress. There was enough room to keep the empire waist and possibly make another dress out of it.

Tris looks down at me, her eyes pained and her expression that of a trapped animal. My older brother used to trap squirrels when we were younger, and once they realized they were stuck, they looked an awful lot like Tris right now.

"I thought the dress would hide it," she finally answers, and she looks over at Christina. "The salesgirl said it would be flattering."

"Of course she did," Christina answers, finally sounding a bit more like the Christina I'd come to know. "She would have told you whatever you wanted to hear in order for you to purchase… that."

I make a face at Christina over Tris's shoulder and shake my head, mouthing 'shut up'.

"I don't think anyone will know, not unless you want to tell them," I brightly lie, pinning one more section on her side. "I mean, they might suspect, but they won't outright know. But why don't you want her to know? Will she be mad or storm out?"

I don't think Tris's mom will really mind that her daughter is pregnant by the man she is about to marry, but I also don't really know her. She could be a terrible person like Eric's mom, or maybe she is just really judgmental. Either way, she'll be gone at the end of the day, and Tris's life will continue on here.

"I don't think so. But I feel like I'm letting her down. In Abnegation…"

"You aren't in Abnegation anymore. You're in Dauntless, where it's normal to have sex with the person you're in a relationship with. So calm down," Christina sighs at her, and I get the impression they've worked through this same issue a few times before. "Everly's also pregnant. You're not in this by yourself."

Tris looks at me again, and she sighs heavily.

"It's not the same thing."

"What do you mean?" I ask her, looking over her shoulder. When I catch Christina's stare, I notice her eye twitching in exasperation.

"Everly is married. She's been married to Eric for almost two years now. That's practically forever. And he got her pregnant after they were married, not before."

I shrug as I pull up the fabric on her sleeves. They are poufy, and I vaguely wonder who decided this much pouf was necessary. "If it makes you feel any better, I think he would have gotten me pregnant before we were married. I don't think he would have minded either way."

"Would your mom have been upset?" Tris asks, and I shake my head.

"No. I mean, she might have been a little concerned that I had gotten pregnant by the trainer before I was actually a member here. But she would just tell me as long as I loved him, everything would work out."

"That's terrible advice if you really think about it," Christina points out, crossing her arms. "Eric might have—"

"Eric was head over heels for Everly. Even when she was just an initiate," Tris sighs. "This is different. I don't want them to be disappointed in me."

"Are you disappointed?" I ask her, and I mark the sleeves where I've decided they should be cut off. "Because I think what you feel is all that matters. It seems to me like you and Four both are way too focused on what everyone else thinks, and you've forgotten about yourselves."

For a very long minute, they both are totally silent, their eyes on me.

Christina finally nods her head, turning to stare at her friend. "Everly is right, you know. Are you disappointed in how things turned out?"

Tris looks up at me, then back at Christina and she smiles, really smiles for the first time since I've seen her today.

"No, not at all."

 

 

Jack Kang's response to my email comes in as I sit beside Christina. We're watching as a man, ironically named Christian, make unpleasant faces as he re-pins Tris's dress. Turns out, no threats had been necessary; Christian knew who Tris was, he knew who I was, and he definitely knew who Eric was.

And he adores him.

Really adores him.

"Eric's been looking good lately. I think being a family man might just be the best thing that could have happened to him. He's been looking really fit. Has he been working out more, Everly? Burnin' off that stress before the baby arrives? You know, I wish you and Eric had had a wedding here. I would have loved to have made you a dress."

Christian eyes me over Tris, his brown eyes flashing with excitement behind his glasses at the very thought. The store that sold Tris her dress doesn't have a tailor, so they gleefully referred us to Christian. He is the man behind the Dauntless uniforms, and despite being tiny and looking like he's never so much as held a gun, he's fierce and quick, pinning and chopping away at Tris's dress with lightning precision.

"Um, thanks. And not that I know of. He looks the same to me."

"Mmm-hmm, sure." Christian easily slices off the sheer sleeve, and Tris tries hard to stay still. "You get to see him every day. I only see him when he's ready for a new jacket."

I look over at Christina, hoping my face reflects a neutral expression. She's trying hard not to laugh, and she's failing miserably.

"I hadn't seen him at the gym in a while, but I did see him last week and he was looking good. You'll have to tell him I said hello. I think this winter we're redoing some of the uniforms, so I'll see him for his measurements."

Christian steps back from Tris and holds his hands out in celebration. "Alright, honey, turn around and show your friends what we've got going on. I think you'll be pleased at what we did to that monstrosity."

Tris slowly turns around to face us, finally revealing what Christian has been working on. She grins widely, and Christina sits up a bit straighter.

"Whoa."

"There's no charge, of course. Any friend of Eric's is a friend of mine." Christian jots something down on an official-looking piece of paper, and he hands it to me. I don't know if Eric would enjoy someone describing Tris as his friend, but Christian doesn't give me the chance to argue. "Everly, come back tomorrow. I have something I think you'll like."

"Thank you," I tell him, looking down at the paper. It looks like what would be a sales receipt, except there's no total on it and Eric's name is circled a few times. "What time?"

"Anytime you'd like."

I look up, catching sight of Tris staring at herself in the mirror with an incredibly happy expression on her face. She catches my eye, and she mouths 'thank you' before Christian leads her away to take the dress off.

The relief is overwhelming.

 

 

"You look really handsome."

I help Eric adjust his jacket collar, smoothing it down and into place. I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach him, and one of his hands rests on my lower back, keeping me pressed against him. We've been getting ready for the past hour, the whole event taking far longer than I'd imagined because Eric wasn't being at all helpful.

A few minutes after I finished my hair, he sauntered into the bathroom, shirtless, with a curious look on his face, and stood behind me, staring at my hair. I watched in the mirror as he reached forward to pull the bobby pins out, causing the sides to fall out of place, and he only stopped when it was all simply hanging loose and was just wavier than normal.

"That's better."

I'd come to realize Eric didn't really like anything that reminded him too much of Amity, especially not after our dinner there. Were my hair ever braided or twisted up, he took it upon himself to rip it out so it was back down. I had zero preference over it, really. It was easier to put it up while at work, and at home, I was suddenly too tired to do anything more than brush it out — which worked out well, since that seemed to be what he liked.

Once my hair was back to a more pleasing manner, he'd then wasted time by toying with the zipper on my dress, eventually unzipping it, moving his hands onto my hips and pulling me back into him, until I'd sweetly threatened to knee him in the balls if he didn't go get ready.

But now he's dressed, and I have to say, the fight to get him to agree to go to Four and Tris's wedding was well worth it. He looks handsome as ever, even more so than when we had our anniversary dinner. His jacket is fitted enough that I can still see every curve of the well-defined muscles in his arms, and the dark shirt offsets his grey eyes. In his formalwear he looks dangerous, like he might corner someone to ask their name with a charming grin on his lips, then stab them.

It's making it hard for me to focus, and I'm starting to regret shooing him away earlier.

"Are you going to behave?"

I smooth down his collar one more time, the action totally unnecessary, but it's an excuse to keep my hands on him. Eric stares at me, pretending to be thinking about my question in a very mocking manner.

"No, I am not," he retorts, moving my hair off my shoulder. "I'm being forced to sit through the Stiffs' wedding. I have every intention of enjoying myself. I'll act how I please."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I point out, and he smirks.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you worried that a leader of Dauntless will embarrass you at this prestigious event? I would certainly hate for Tris's parents to think poorly of me," he scoffs, rolling his eyes, and I wrap my hands around his throat, though I pose no real threat to him.

"Eric Coulter, be nice," I warn him, noting the way his eyes narrow beneath the long eyelashes. I often wonder what he looked like as a child, because the expression of defiance he's giving me is one he probably flashed at his parents quite a few times. "And if you can't be nice, then be quiet."

"Gladly," he responds, and he knocks my hands away from his throat. "Maybe we'll find out how quiet you can be."

I smile at him, reaching up even further until my nose touches his. He stays still, his hands moving back to my waist, and he picks me up until my feet leave the floor as he steps us back towards the bed.

"Let's skip the wedding and stay here. I'll let you be on top, and we can watch one of those movies you like. The one with the dog guy or whatever."

He hisses the words in my ear, and there is a very large part of me that wants to take him up on such a romantic offer. It's rare that he'll willingly announce such a plan that allows me to be in charge, but I find myself shaking my head no, though very reluctantly.

"I promised Tris we'd be there," I whisper, and Eric sighs heavily.

It had taken a lot to get to this point, and I would be a spectacularly shitty friend to skip the wedding for my own satisfaction. I'd done it to Courtney once: I'd completely ditched out on her birthday party to sit up high in a rickety tree house, deep in the Amity woods. I'd spent the whole afternoon with Landon, stumbling home just in time to catch the dejected look on her face when she realized I'd chosen him over her. I'd promised myself I would never do something like that again. And I wouldn't, especially not today.

I am far more invested than Eric, and not just because Tris is my friend. Because this wedding isn't just a wedding ceremony and what Tris thinks will be a small reception. It's a ceremony followed by a reception with some of the most important people in Dauntless who are attending because Four has formally accepted the position of leader.

He caught me while I was on a break, sitting in my office and happily eating a bagel. He wandered in with a determined look on his face. He confessed that after thinking it over, he had decided to take the position, but on one condition.

Turns out all Four really needed was the reassurance that his office would be nowhere near Eric's. It sounded petty and unusual for Four, but I understood. He felt like Eric would be far too concerned with what he was doing, especially in such close proximity, and I'm sure he would be.

Since Eric wasn't hunting down Four's mother, we both knew he'd be more than happy to keep tabs on her son, just so he could be sure he wasn't going anywhere. I promised Four I'd talk to Max, and I did.

A few hours later, I stood beside Four while he signed off on a stack of papers in front of everyone. Eric was cordial, ever disinterested and a bit blasé over the whole thing until I glared at him. Then he managed to look a tad bit more polite, even very grudgingly welcoming Four to the leadership committee, and his words only had a small hint of malice behind them.

So there is no way I am skipping this wedding, not even if it means lying in bed with Eric in orgasmic bliss while watching horrible movies. I'm not sure if Four and Tris know it yet, but everyone will be there, including Jason.

"I'll take you up on the offer later," I promise, as he steps back looking a bit defeated. "Your friends are probably already there, and you hate to be late," I tell Eric, and he shrugs in response.

"If we have to."

I get him out the door by intertwining my fingers through his and pulling him along with me. Eric is silent until we reach the hallway, the door shutting heavily behind me.

"Just so you know, I'm only going to this because of you. Even if Four did accept the position."

He sounds cranky, but the annoyed look vanishes when I stop to kiss him, putting both my hands on either side of his face. I remember that at one point in time, Eric Coulter told me he loved me, something he'd clearly never told anyone else before, and every day he proves it just a little bit more.

 

 

The wedding is far prettier than I would have imagined.

While it doesn't totally conform to what I imagine a traditional Dauntless wedding would be like, I can see the influences of both Dauntless and Abnegation here and there. The room is set up with rows of chairs, each adorned with rich grey and black fabrics neatly tied in place. It matches the grey runner that leads to the focal point of the room: a decent-sized archway made entirely of white flowers. Beside the flowers are rows of flickering candles, adding an element of danger should the arch suddenly catch fire.

No one seems too worried, not even Four.

He stands in front of the arch, talking with his friend, Zeke. He looks nicer than I've ever seen him; his hair has been recently cut and his suit fits far better than all the other ones I'd seen him try on. He smiles when he sees us walking in, more at me than Eric, before going back to talking to Zeke.

Eric sneers at all of it.

"It looks hideous in here."

He mutters the words with an air of indifference, like perhaps Four should have made sure his wedding was more suited to Eric's taste, and I nudge his side. I can't expect him to be honored to attend this wedding, but I can rein him in a bit.

"You would have picked out much fancier flowers, right?" I tease. I take hold of his hand as we walk down the aisle to find our seats. There are already people waiting, mostly the other leaders and their dates, and they turn to glance at us, first taking in Eric and his malicious expression, then me, smiling happily beside him. I can almost feel what it would have been like to walk down the aisle towards a waiting Eric. I can picture him standing there, beneath more exciting and dangerous flowers, sharply dressed and glaring at everyone around him, but glaring less at me. I'm certain he would have made sure our vows were swift, probably reminding me just how safe I'd be with him, before we left to celebrate alone, just the two of us.

Eric comes to a stop at the second row. The first is reserved for the select few family members that were invited. There is no one from Four's family here, and only a lone woman, dressed in a fancier version of the Abnegation grey clothing, is seated on the other side. She smiles brightly when she sees us, and I can only assume she is Tris's mom.

She doesn't look the least bit mean.

In fact, I have the sudden urge to go and sit beside her and talk with her, but before I can, Eric leads us down the row of chairs, picking out two seats that are within earshot of Max. Max stands and immediately waves Eric over, shaking his hand as though they are in some strange business meeting and must formally greet each other. I hear Max mention the word patrols, and I tune it all out, taking the opportunity to survey the room.

There are plenty of people filling up the seats on either side. So many that I watch as Four blinks a few times in surprise when he glances at Max, Harrison, their dates, Tori, and some guy with a mohawk so sharp-looking that I wonder if it would hurt to touch it, all having taken seats. Our row is nearly full as Jason and Megan slide past us, followed by Rylan and a rushed-looking Christina.

"They're starting in just a few minutes," Christina tries to whisper, but she might as well be shouting despite the fact that she's now sitting right by me. "And you look really pretty. I can't believe he made that in such a short amount of time."

"Thank you," I tell her, beaming.

I feel pretty, despite my dress feeling far more fitted than I had planned on wearing. It turned out that Christian could sew at lightning speed, and he made a dress for me to wear after my visit with Tris. It's fancier than I'd planned on wearing, but it is a wedding after all. And Eric certainly likes it.

"How does this work? Does Tris walk down the aisle by herself?" I turn to glance back down the row, but there is no one at the end. The rows behind us are totally filled up with somewhat familiar faces peering back at me. I catch sight of Kacie, her blonde hair twisted up on the sides as she takes in the room. There are a few others from the control room, but I'm far happier to see Karl bounding down the aisle with Charlotte on his arm. They both grin at the same time, sliding into the only empty seats directly behind us.

"I have no idea what she has planned," Christina tells me. She shifts in her seat, and helps Rylan fix the tie he's wearing. "I've never been to a wedding in Abnegation, and I don't even know if they have them there."

"Of course they don't have weddings there," Eric interrupts, sounding as bored as if Christina had asked him if he enjoyed socks. "Celebrations are selfish. I'm surprised Tris and Four are okay with having all this in their honor. They seem like the type to get married in their apartment and then one day announce they've been married for years."

"Isn't that what you did?" Jason asks, reaching into his jacket. I watch as he glances around discreetly, pulls out a flask, and takes a large swig. "Just one day announced that you had a wife and you acted like we'd known all along that you were marrying Everly? Who you never let us meet, even though you'd been ditching us for months to hang out with her."

Rylan snickers as Eric cocks his head at his friend. "I didn't ditch you. I was training her, dumbass. It's not like we were out at cocktail hour," Eric retorts, peering down at his watch. "And I did tell you we were getting married — the day we got married."

"That was very thoughtful of you." Jason rolls his eyes, and I notice the woman I assumed to be Tris's mom trying hard to look like she isn't listening. She turns slightly, catching my eye before turning back around.

"Hey, Eric…"

But Jason doesn't get another word out because the ceremony starts, the lights dimming to a warm glow, and I settle back in my seat, scooting closer to Eric.

I'm not entirely sure what to expect. I attended plenty of weddings in Amity, but they were almost always the same: they used the same sort of officiant — whichever seasoned farmer was free that evening — and they were usually held outside. Amity weddings also had the habit of turning into a party. They always lasted for hours; people were free to come and go, though most stayed through the entire thing, and they rarely were celebrated without plenty of alcohol.

But so far, this wedding has started in a similar manner; we watch as Tris walks down the aisle with her dad, and I swear my heart clenches in my chest when he sneaks a look at her. It doesn't get any better when they reach the end of the aisle. He holds onto her as she stands with Four, his hand tight on her elbow, and I can tell he's struggling to let go.

"Are you okay?" Eric asks, his voice low in my ear. He's noticed that I'm clinging onto him, my nails digging into his palm as Andrew Prior hugs his daughter tightly before finally letting go. He catches my eye as he walks back to take the seat beside his wife, smiling gently at me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I whisper.

Eric responds by tightening his grip on my hand and holding me closer to him.

"Okay."

I know he doesn't believe me. I can see him eyeing me out of the corner of his eye, and I smile up at him until he smiles back tightly. I don't want him to regret our lack of a wedding; our marriage came about in its own organic way. Hosting such an event would have made no sense for Eric or me. My own father might not have even attended; if he didn't show up for Visiting Day, there's no guarantee he would have traveled this way to watch me marry a man he knew nothing about.

"I promise. It just made me think of my dad. But I'm good, I swear." I say the words so only he can hear them, and I focus back on Tris, watching as she stares up at Four. She looks absolutely beautiful, and the look on her face tells me she's not even thinking about her mother's lack of approval or her dress.

"Alright."

Eric doesn't sound convinced, but he lets it go. He shifts in his seat, sighing heavily until I lay my head on his shoulder.

The rest is a blur. Their ceremony is shorter than I thought it would be, and far longer than Eric would have liked it to be. He spends the remainder of the time seated with his arm slung around my shoulders, his legs spread out wide as he reclines back. He has an air of indifference about him, only perking up the tiniest bit when Four stumbles over a couple of his words to Tris. Their vows are simple, but there's obviously a lot of thought that's been put into them. I can tell they are both nervous, especially when they are formally announced as husband and wife. I elbow Eric when he laughs quietly, his sharp gaze focused right on Four.

"Eric," I mutter warningly, and he pretends to cough.

"Sorry," he says lowly, flashing me a blinding smile. "I must have gotten something in my throat."

I lean into him, shifting slightly. I watch with rapt attention as Four and Tris stare at each other for a long moment, adding something so quietly that only they can hear, and then they both look a bit pink as he bends down and kisses her. The rooms erupts into loud clapping and a few catcalls that I don't have to look to know are coming from Jason, before Tris and Four break apart.

"Thank God that's over." Eric mutters the words so only I can hear them, keeping his arm around me. "I think I'd rather train an entire class from Amity than sit through that again."

"Hey!" I protest, but Eric is smirking when I look at him. "It wasn't that bad. It was really sweet."

"Sweet," he repeats in a flat voice. "I suppose one could call it sweet. Or awful."

"I liked it," Jason interrupts, standing abruptly. "I wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't totally terrible. And as our newest coworker, it was nice that he invited us."

"I doubt he really cares if we're here or not," Rylan pipes up, stretching his legs out in front of him. "But it wasn't bad. Kinda different than the last wedding we went to."

"Whose wedding was that?" I ask, watching as Four takes Tris's hand. He smiles at her, really smiles at her, like she's the only one in the room, before turning to lead her back down the aisle.

"No one important," Eric snaps, and I can feel the entire mood shift. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and I swear I can feel the annoyance radiating from him. "Are you hungry, Amity?"

I smile up at him, nodding my head.

"I am, are you?" I lean my head onto his shoulder, watching as Tris's parents stand. The room is slowly starting to become noisier; Christina and Rylan are now laughing while they discuss the level of sweetness the wedding really had, Jason is back to loudly discussing how much he enjoyed the wedding, and Max and his date are talking with Tori. Everyone else's mood is so happy and light that I can't help but feel a warm buzz run through me.

"Starved. But I can't wait to see what they've cooked up for this party," Eric turns to glance down at me, and I should know by the way his lips curl up that this dinner isn't going to be anything I'm going to enjoy.

 

 

I was right.

I'm a little confused as I chew my chicken, wondering how it's possible for something to taste like nothing. Maybe I've been too spoiled by Eric's cooking, but this food tastes so bland that I'm not quite sure I'm actually eating anything.

Eric is watching me with this shit-eating grin on his face, and I notice he's eaten nothing but his salad — after drenching it in an absurd amount of dressing.

"Good, isn't it?" he asks, sounding smugger than I've ever heard him sound.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to force myself to swallow down the food. When they brought it out it had looked appealing. There's nothing wrong with chicken and salad, mashed potatoes and carrots. But I soon realized that unlike our anniversary dinner, during which Quinten had made several appearances to survey the food that was coming out, he was noticeably absent here, probably out of shame for such a horrible, tasteless meal.

"Why does it taste like…"

"Nothing?" Eric interrupts, his face breaking into delight. "Because Stiffs like plain food. Seasoning is far too selfish of a thing to add to one's meal."

I blink at him, trying to figure out if I want to keep eating or not. Eric can tell, because he nudges my shoulder with his, lowering his head down until his lips graze my ear.

"It doesn't help that you've had dinner made for you every night since you arrived here. By someone who doesn't consider using pepper to be a sin."

His words make me laugh out loud, causing Christina and Rylan to look at me curiously. They both look confused by the food, chewing far longer than necessary before attempting to swallow it down.

"This is… weird," Rylan announces, setting his fork down. He surveys the room and the people in it; most share the same expression that he has on his face. "It looks like food, but it doesn't taste like food."

"Would you like some more salad, sir?"

The wait staff for this wedding consists of a few servers that look vaguely familiar, but no one I recognize by name. This one waits patiently with a tray on his arm while Eric decides if he'd like more of the world's most bland appetizer.

"I think I've had enough. You can send my portion to Four, though. He looks a little underfed."

"Eric!" I kick him beneath the table, ignoring his bark of laughter. He continues to snicker on until I see Max approaching our table.

"Eric, Everly," he greets us, and my heart sinks as the hot feeling of déjà vu washes over me. His tone isn't celebratory in the least, and he looks far too serious for someone at a wedding. I flash back to my anniversary dinner, sitting beside Eric as Max approached us with the same expression, and where he uttered the words that made Eric sit up just a bit straighter, just like now. I can't really focus on anything except Eric stiffening, his muscles tightening as his shoulders move back and he lifts his head. Time seems to slow down as I realize what's going on. This time, it's not my night that's about to be ruined.

It's Four's.


	57. Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much to BK2U, not only for editing this chapter for me but for your help with my favorite character ever. I appreciate the time you've taken to help me work on this!
> 
> Thank you all for your patience with the wait for this chapter. The next one won't be anywhere near as long. Promise :)

One night a while back, Eric and I watched a movie about a murderer who ate his victims.

Once caught, he sat all alone in a cage made of steel bars, his pristine white outfit bright under the fluorescent lights, and he smiled serenely as the guards brought him lunch. Later on, when his white shirt was splattered with their bright red blood and one of the guard's faces had been ripped right off of him, the serene smile was still firmly in place.

That very same smile was the one that Evelyn wore as she stood across from me, behind the very same sort of bars.

 

If Eric and Four consider their lives to be an unofficial competition, Four certainly wins for worst way to end a wedding day. Eric and I spent our wedding night in bed together, my body warmed by Eric's, nearly unable to breathe through the intensity of the consummation of our marriage. I eventually fell asleep atop of him, my limbs wound through his, because even in my sleep I couldn't bear to be away from him.

But Four's wedding night comes to an abrupt and unpleasant end when he joins us in the dark hallway, his suit slightly less formal-looking with his tie loosened and his shirt unbuttoned a bit. His eyes tell me he already knew what was going on, and that this was just another example of his mother trying to make the world all about her.

Of course she'd show up on her son's wedding day. There was no doubt her network of spies would have gotten wind of what was going on, feeding her the perfect information on how to cause the most chaos and disruption. And now she is here, having appeared like a phantom mere hours after he'd declared Tris to be his wife.

"She's been brought in by Gordon. Karl's gone to debrief him, and so far he's relayed back to me that she didn't really put up much of a fight," Max says in a clipped tone. He seems as agitated about this interruption as the rest of us.

The look on Eric's face is one of utter dissatisfaction. To an outsider, it would look like he is disappointed in her easy capture, but I know better. Evelyn is smart, and there is a reason she came along willingly; he isn't buying that she threw up her hands and skipped towards Gordon.

He isn't the only one.

"Wait, she surrendered?"

Four's voice sounds flat, almost uninterested, except that the tense positioning of his shoulders tells me otherwise.

"I wouldn't say she surrendered. She said she came to talk, but the guards warned her they'd talk in other ways if she didn't come along willingly." Max shrugs, his suit jacket looking far too nice for him to be standing in this hallway and talking about a wretched woman who tried to start a war. "She said she wants to meet with all of us," Max continues, and I watch as Eric's jaw clenches down again.

I know he is thinking something is up. There are a lot of reasons why Evelyn would want to talk, but absolutely none of them would prove to be anything worthwhile. I also know that since I am out of Eric's program and onto a different career path, I won't be there for her interrogation.

"All of you need to go?" I stand beside him in my fancy dress, which sparkles even in the low lighting, growing more and more uneasy. I don't want her to hurt anyone else, yet here she is, moments away from destroying the happiest day of Four's life. "I mean, maybe let Four stay and celebrate..."

"He needs to be there. Every leader," Max interrupts firmly, and I realize that were I the one to have accepted Four's position, I'd be the one leaving along with them. It feels disturbingly unfair to my friend, but while Max might have normally taken my side, his tone tells me that he isn't in the mood to show up with only some of his leaders.

"It's fine, I can go." Four looks over at me, and though his expression is mostly unreadable, I can tell he is torn by the thought of leaving Tris alone on their wedding night.

"Sorry about this, dude." Jason comes up beside us, slinging his arm around Four's shoulder, and I notice his tie is askew. "You didn't choose the leadership life, but the leadership life has chosen you. But don't sweat it, this won't take long. We'll have a few beers when we get back." He claps him on the shoulder, trying hard to make this seem less unappealing.

"You'll probably need more than just a beer after this." Rylan shakes his head from the other side of Four, and while he looks cheerful, his tone is less than jovial. "Sorry, man. I would offer to let you stay behind, but uh, I don't think we're voting on this one. But hey, maybe you'll get lucky and it won't take all night."

The whole thing seems wrong on more than a few levels, but I appear to be the only one feeling this way. Everyone else looks irritated at her interruption, put out that the celebrating is coming to a grinding halt. I try to bite down the panic I'm feeling, ignoring the flood of thoughts that those who hold the utmost positions in Dauntless are currently gathered in one place, not exactly on the highest of alerts, and would soon be gathered again in one even smaller place, just like sitting ducks.

Evelyn could have men out there swarming around Dauntless, just waiting until they're sure we aren't quite paying attention.

"Eric?" I ask again, and my heart sinks when he nods.

He's been practically silent ever since we joined Max in the hallway, and I know he's dangerous when he's quiet. Four might have warned me over and over about Eric's ways, but he was never more right than when he warned me about when Eric goes quiet. It's as though his brain shifts into a different mode, one entirely unlike what you would expect for Dauntless. It didn't take me long to learn that Eric rarely thinks like a typical Dauntless does, and that it can be terrifying if you're the person he's thinking about.

Especially right now.

"So...she's in Dauntless now. Just waiting to talk to everyone? Great." Four looks over at me and he grimaces. The irony of this situation is almost laughable, but I can't force myself to smile at him. Instead, I frown, worry working its way through my nerves.

"We'll head there now. You need to tell Tris you'll be back soon," Max instructs, and I can tell he's trying not to let on that he feels crappy about making Four tell his new wife that he must leave his wedding dinner. "Tell her you'll need about an hour or so. We'll try to make it back before you're supposed to cut the cake."

Four nods, and I watch him walk back to where Tris is waiting, his hands clenching into fists; I know it's not just the potential of missing out on some Dauntless cake that's dampened his mood.

 

 

"Are you going to kill her?"

Eric blinks at me, his steely stare glued to mine. It's not an unusual question, though it sounds strange saying the words out loud. Eric is no stranger to taking the lives of those who have crossed him, and Evelyn will certainly be no exception. But the thought of Evelyn in Dauntless still makes my stomach turn over, despite being in our custody and no doubt under heavy security, and my words are only to seek out some reassurance that I won't find her roaming the halls.

"They'll want to talk to her first," Eric answers, his eyes raking over me once more. I can tell by his posture that he's ready to kill her should the opportunity arise. "So no, I won't be killing her. At least not in the next hour or so."

He pauses, then reaches out to touch my hair. His fingers slip through, curling behind my ear, and I swallow heavily. I'd already made the snap decision not to ask to come along with him. While there are quite a few things I would love to say to Evelyn, my reasons for wanting to go are purely selfish and won't serve any purpose during their interrogation of her. Eric would also predictably lose it, and I don't need to get into an argument with him on why I should stay here. The wedding, no matter what is going on, isn't the place for such a discussion.

If you could call it that.

"I want you to go, but I don't want you to go," I tell him, and he nods his head in understanding.

"I know."

He looks down again, the space between us now different. I can no longer press myself right up against him, and Christian's dress only accentuates that fact. Eric smiles slightly, his eyes softening for just a second, and I reach for his hand.

"Do you think Tris will be mad that Four is leaving?" I whisper the words at him, and I notice his eyes dart to the doorway. I don't have to turn my head to know that Four is standing there, quietly explaining to Tris why he's about to walk away from their wedding reception.

"Depends. Does she know about Evelyn? Does she know what was going on?" Eric asks, and he removes his hand from my hair. The warmth from him seems to be slowly slipping away, even more so when I shake my head.

"She knows what Evelyn did to me, but I don't think Four told her much of what she was planning. Especially after he…" I pause, hesitant to say that he helped her. Four's involvement with his mother had been a sore spot for Eric, even though it was proven that Four abandoned her the minute he realized what she was doing. It hadn't taken me long to forgive Four, even after what happened with Colton, but it had been nothing short of a miracle for Eric to finally decide that Four wasn't actively leading a revolution beneath his nose. "Eric, you won't let Evelyn mess with him, will you?"

I hope he gets what I'm saying. It's not that I think Four is weak; in fact, in more ways than one, he's proven to be stronger than most in Dauntless. I just don't know if he's prepared to see her. He once told me his entire family was a bunch of traitors, and it's torturous that his mother would choose today to show up. I know she'll use his wedding as a way to hurt him, even in the face of death. Eric is quiet for a long time, but to my surprise, he seems to understand what I'm saying.

"I'll talk with him on the way. I'm sure he's prepared for the emotional manipulation that's coming. But I'll remind him that he'll have to just ignore her. That's she's going to try to get a rise out of all of us and we need to be ready for it."

I watch him glance at Four out of the corner of his eye, and for once, I see nothing but a strange glimmer of loyalty. Maybe not to Four specifically, but certainly to his faction and to those within the city. In this moment, I know Eric is true to every one of the Dauntless values that he demands be instilled in the initiates. He's every ounce the protector, the soldier, the securer of the city. He's been waiting, biding his time until he can serve justice to all she's wronged. She's the final threat to our city, and he'll remedy that as soon as possible.

"I'll come back as soon as I can. Try to enjoy the rest of your night, Everly." Eric reaches for me again, this time moving to kiss my forehead. He stands there for a moment too long, and I snake my arms around him as best I can.

"Okay."

I let go of him only when Rylan walks up to us, clearing his throat. I lift my head up to smile at him, but he sort of scrunches his face at me in return.

"I just said goodbye to Christina, but we need you to go tell Four to wrap it up. Max wants to leave now, and he's getting impatient."

After announcing he wanted all leaders with him, Max had given everyone a few minutes to say goodbye. I'd used my time trying to untangle how I felt about the situation before deciding I wanted Eric to kill her, and I could only imagine Four was forced to use his time to hastily explain why he was leaving to his new bride.

"You want me to go get him?"

"It's just that…well, it would be awkward for one of us to do it. But you can take Tris back to her table…" Rylan trails off, and he looks as uncomfortable as he sounds. "I just feel bad for the dude. I don't want to be the one to tell him he has to leave his own wedding. He's been a leader for like five minutes, and he's already gotta deal with this shit."

"It's okay, I'll go. I should stay with Tris anyway," I answer. I'm grateful for his thoughtfulness, especially right now. His empathy towards Four is reassuring; perhaps there's a tiny glimmer of hope in this shitty turn of events. "Bye, Eric."

Eric smiles at me, probably appreciative of the fact that I've not begged to go with him. I step away from his embrace, my heart beating in my throat, and I walk over to the doorway where Four and Tris stand. I can catch small bits of their conversation the closer I get — mostly Four's tight and sort of frantic apology that he has to go, and Tris' gentle confirmation that she understands.

It's not surprising to me that she's telling him to leave.

"I just…I don't want to leave you, but…I have to…I mean, I took the position, and she's here…"

His words are not jumbled, just fresh from his mind, and I can tell he's struggling with the right thing to say. His attention is solely on his wife, his head bent down and his hands on hers. She smiles up at him again, the same way I've smiled up at Eric, and she gives him the reassurance that he needs to ease the guilt that's now hanging over him.

"It's fine," Tris tells him. She reaches up to touch his face, her fingers tracing his cheek before moving to settle behind his neck. "You go do what you need to do, and I'll see you at home tonight. The reception isn't a big deal, Four. The ceremony was, yes, but not this."

He nods at her, not wholly convinced, and I take another slow step closer, unwilling to rip them way from each other.

"Go," she urges him, and I suddenly understand why Rylan didn't want to interrupt them. This feels far too private to interrupt. I stay far enough from them that it's not obvious that I'm waiting, but close enough that I hear Tris tell Four he can make it up to her tonight.

"I love you."

His answer is clear, his thank you heavy in his words, and he bends down to kiss Tris goodbye. It's fleeting, and I know the icky feeling of these goodbye kisses, ones that always seem to come at some terrible, unfortunate time when the last thing you want is for the other person to leave.

Four breaks away from Tris after a second and pulls his shoulders back.

He then turns to me as though he knows I've been standing there and nods his head at me. I didn't even realize that Eric and the others had gathered behind me, all waiting for the newest leader of Dauntless to finish saying goodbye. They graciously give him his time, standing around me as a unified front, waiting as Four grows stoic.

He straightens himself up to his full height and clears his throat before instructing them firmly.

"Let's go."

 

 

 

"This tastes really good." Christina eats another bite of the wedding cake, closing her eyes in delight. "I hope that if Rylan ever proposes, he will want to have a wedding here. He told me one time that he'd be fine getting married at Clyde's, but I don't think they even have cake there."

"They don't," I tease her, stabbing at her cake with a vengeance.

Tris and Four's wedding cake, something chocolatey and gooey and delicious, was the perfect distraction from what was brewing in Dauntless. We had been at Four's apartment for over two hours now. I had tried to stop looking at the blinking clock, knowing it would not make the time go by any faster, but I couldn't help but keep checking it, and Tris seemed to be doing the same.

We only stayed at the reception a little while after Max, Eric, Four, Jason and Rylan left. The mood of the party hadn't changed, but the absence of our leaders — and the groom in particular — was noticeable. I tried to ignore Eric's empty chair the same way Christina and Tris ignored the ones by them. It seemed we all grew tired at the same time, and Tris politely bowed out by saying she was exhausted, graciously thanking everyone for coming.

No one really protested. They'd all noticed Four was gone, and it seemed fitting that she'd want to go home. The wait staff began quietly cleaning, Quinten appeared to awkwardly congratulate Tris before handing her a giant box, and Charlotte offered to help us carry their wedding presents home. I said goodbye to a few stragglers, thanked Kacie when she whispered she'd text me with anything new she learned, and politely waved off Kevin, one of Karl's patrolmen.

It was no surprise that Tris's parents were among the last to leave.

Her father had politely told us all goodnight, smiling kindly at Christina and me. He'd looked worried when Tris came back by herself, but he seemed somewhat at ease when he realized we weren't letting Tris go home alone. Her mother had held on to her the same way mine had held on to me the last time I saw her, with a death grip that Tris couldn't escape from. I knew the exact moment when she asked if Tris wanted her to stay, and I could understand the reason Tris finally told her to go home, hugging her one final time.

I could tell she truly was exhausted, but I knew it was a different kind of exhausted — a bone weary tiredness that came from being left in the dark, and I felt the same way. I never slept well without Eric, and I certainly wouldn't be able to sleep without him now, especially knowing what was going on. So it made more sense for all of us to accompany her home, followed by Charlotte, who easily fell into place with us on the couch when Tris offered her cake. I was happy she was staying with us.

"Do they even have dessert there? It seems like they wouldn't," Christina asks curiously, and I pretend to think for a minute.

"They have muffins," I suggest, and she looks horrified.

"Not the same. Not even close, Everly. Don't you even try to pretend Eric would have been good with muffins at his wedding."

I shake my head, laughing as I eat my bite of cake. For someone who loves bland food, Tris certainly picked out an amazing wedding cake. It was a shame that Four hadn't been there when it was served, but she'd taken most of it home with her. I try to imagine what sort of cake I would have had, and then I try to picture a mountain of muffins from Clyde's, tumbling to the floor while Quinten watched on in horror.

"Eric isn't really a muffin man," I point out, taking another bite of cake.

Beside me, Tris suddenly lets out a burst of laughter, and even Charlotte can't help but giggle.

"I'm sorry, Everly, but that might be the funniest thing I've ever heard." Tris takes a deep breath and I can tell she's trying hard not to laugh again. She fails miserably, snorting at the thought.

"Do you think they'll be done soon? It feels like it's been a while," Charlotte asks out of nowhere, and the mood in the room bursts like a bubble. Everyone sobers up rather quickly, all of them turning to look at me. I forgot that she's new to all this, and if Karl is given the position in Eric's program, she'll become well acquainted with waiting for him to come home.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "It just depends on what they're doing and how cooperative she is. They might even keep her around for a few days to see what they can get out of her before they decide her fate."

"It'll be death, won't it?"

Tris looks directly at me, balancing her plate on her knees. Her wedding dress has long since been discarded in favor of pajamas, and she glances at the cake like she's lost her appetite.

"I mean, after everything that's happened with her, especially to you, there's no way Eric will let her live."

Charlotte stops eating her cake as well. "This is who kidnapped you? The woman they brought in?"

I nod, the cake settling in my stomach like a rock. I flash back to the moment when I opened my eyes and found myself amongst the factionless, the smell of earth invading my senses as though I'm still standing right there. I can feel the same panic start up now as it did then — panic that came from knowing I was trapped there, stuck waiting for a man who may or may not be able to save me. I had been too terrified to try to run, knowing she'd be ready for that, and too horrified to think about what she'd do if she caught me.

I can still remember the way I'd heard Karl yell my name as Colton carried me over his shoulder, the way I'd been dragged through gunfire only to have a needle stuck in my neck to erase my life, the way I'd woken up without any memory of my husband, all because of her.

"Everly, you okay there?" Christina puts her hand on my arm, and I nod again, blinking to dispel the final memory of Evelyn gleefully telling me that Eric had turned down her offer to exchange me for Dauntless's help.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. It's her. I just…I was thinking about what a shitty person she is. And that I hope Eric kills her. I hope he's already killed her."

"I don't blame you," Charlotte answers, so quietly that I almost don't hear her. "I heard what Karl saw when they took you, and how it was when you came back, especially Eric. I don't doubt he's all for her death. I didn't know that was who they'd found today."

"Are you all for her death?" Christina looks directly at Tris, and I watch as Tris drops her stare back to her plate. She looks a little ill suddenly as she winces, setting her plate down.

"Tris?" Christina asks, sitting up a bit further.

Tris shakes her head, hesitating with her answer, perhaps because of Charlotte's company, or maybe just because it's hard to admit that you'd like your mother-in-law dead. But she finally looks up at me, and her expression is grim.

"For what she's done to Four, even death is far too kind of a punishment."

 

 

A half an hour later, Kelly is taking Tris's vitals.

Christina and Charlotte are seated in the uncomfortable chairs beside the infirmary bed, and I sit atop the scratchy blanket, trying to keep Tris company while a nurse I've never met before takes her blood pressure. We'd just finished helping Tris put away the rest of the cake when she stopped and looked at me with wide eyes, asking in a weird voice if I'd go with her to the infirmary.

I managed to stay calm as flashes of Daniel's book ran through my head. I started to think of everything I had read about that could be going wrong, especially now. She's further along than I am, and now is the time when something important might be happening. I motioned for Christina and Charlotte to follow us, instructing them to grab a sweater and her shoes. Both of them had looked a little freaked out, but just a few minutes later all four of us headed towards the infirmary without saying much to each other.

"Did you get ahold of Four?" Tris asks me, her nails digging into my hand as I shake my head no. In our rush to get down here, Christina had nominated herself to try and reach everyone. She told us she would text Rylan until he responded. So far, there was no word. It felt a little odd that we hadn't heard from him, and that only meant things were either going really well or quite horribly.

I was hoping it was the former.

"Christina will try again," I promise her, watching Kelly jot a few things down before she looks over at us. They'd taken us to a sort of temporary area so Tris could lie down while we waited to be seen; this wasn't the maternity section I'd been in, it was more like where I'd gone when I'd needed stitches. I half expect Eric to storm in at any moment, but so far the only people to come in looked tired or drunk, and were immediately routed elsewhere.

"We're putting in a call to Dr. Denten, but it'll probably be a little while before she's here. Until then, just rest up and let me know if you need anything. I don't know if all of you will be allowed to stay back here, but for now you should be fine."

"Thank you."

I'm the only one that answers her; Charlotte and Christina are both leaning towards each other, trying to stay warm in the freezing room, watching as though Tris might give birth any second. Even Tris has a funny look on her face when I turn back to observe her. She looks a little pale, though it could be the terrible lighting in here.

"You okay, Tris?" Christina asks her warily. "Are you going to throw up?"

I raise my eyebrows at Tris, ready to jump off the bed if she says yes, but she shakes her head no.

"I'm alright. It just hurts, and then it goes away. It's a weird pain, I can't explain it, but I think I'm feeling a little better now. I feel kind of stupid that we came down here."

"It'll be okay," I say to her. I toy with my phone in one hand, debating on texting Eric. "I think you should get checked out. Maybe make sure it's not something you ate."

Christina nods. "It could have been the dinner. It was sort of weird-tasting. Rylan said he felt a little sick after eating it."

Tris squints at her, as insulted as one can be when they're in some sort of strange pain. "Really? I liked it. I thought it was fine."

"It was fine," I reassure her, shooting Christina a look that tells her this isn't the time to discuss the blandest meal we've ever eaten. "Maybe it has something to do with the end of your pregnancy."

"I hope so. I'm sick of being pregnant," Tris mutters, and I squeeze her hand.

I feel for my friend; I've been lucky that my pregnancy has only consisted of being really tired and occasionally feeling grouchy at Eric when he wakes me up while he's getting ready for work, but Tris's seems to be the textbook version of being pregnant. I've never thrown up the way she did, and I certainly haven't had any sharp pains come on suddenly.

Before I can reassure her again that she's probably fine, something catches my eye, a flash of grey hair and dark scrubs, and I forcefully remove myself from Tris's death grip.

"Oh shit," I blurt out, and everyone's heads turn to look at me. I'm staring at the woman walking towards us, realizing that I'm trapped in this room with no way out.

"What's wrong?" Tris asks, trying to sit up a bit. "Everly, are you alright?"

"Everything's fine," I answer, and my voice sounds way too high and probably a bit insane as Arlene strolls over to us, her gaze fixed directly on me instead of Tris. I wish I could dissolve into this bed before she gets here, but no such luck.

"Everly, what a pleasant surprise to see you down here and not even as a patient." Arlene takes in the sight of all of us before her, marking down a few things on a chart. I swear silently this time; I didn't think she'd be here now. Surely, she'd have worked all day and should have gone home already. But here she is, wide awake and bright-eyed as she narrows her stare at me.

"Hi Arlene, nice to see you again," I greet her warily, waiting for her to ask me where Eric is. I'm surprised when she doesn't; instead, she steps closer to the bed. She eyes me up and down again, and when she's satisfied with her silent observation, she begins to read through the chart Kelly has left.

"Tris, how long have you had this pain for?" Arlene looks up to ask Tris, her tone as brisk as ever. I notice she doesn't look overly concerned, and I relax a tiny bit.

"It just started tonight. Maybe an hour or two ago?" Tris answers. "It happened once when Four was leaving the dinner, but I didn't think anything of it."

Arlene makes a few notes while everyone watches her.

"How frequent is the pain? Constant or intermittent?"

"It's off and on. But not all the time." Tris sits up a bit more and brushes her hair back. Gone is the formal style, and all that's left is a rumpled mess after Christina and I had helped her take out all the bobby pins. "Is that normal?"

Arlene nods, then pops her head out into the hallway and calls for one of the nurses. He arrives quickly, handing her a gown and a few sheets of paper. She scans them briefly, then turns to face Tris.

"It can be. It just depends on what it is." She pauses, then hands the papers back to the nurse. "We just got word that Dr. Denten is running a tad bit behind right now. I'm going to get started with your monitoring. I'll have the rest of the girls step out so you can get changed. We'll have them give you a few minutes, and we'll see what we can figure out before the doctor gets here. Sound good?"

Tris looks up at me, and I can see the uncertainty written all over her face. I nod, feeling slightly guilty about leaving her alone with Arlene, but I can't deny that she knows what she's doing. After all, even Daniel had referred me to her after releasing me from the hospital. If there's anyone in Dauntless that knows as much as Dr. Denten, it would have to be her.

"You'll be fine," I reassure Tris, and I shift to move off the bed. "We'll step out and try to call Four again. Maybe they'll be done by now. And if not, we'll come back when they say we can."

"Okay, let me know if you still can't get ahold of him." She looks less worried now, smiling gratefully as we all tell her goodbye. The three of us start to leave the small triage area, and I stop beside Arlene for a second, watching her fill out a few request forms before she hands them off to the tired-looking nurse.

"Thank you," I tell her when she finally turns around. "Thank you for helping her. Do you think she'll be alright?"

Arlene smiles, not the ridiculously smug smile she normally has, but something almost normal. I realize I've only ever seen her look delighted at my misfortunes, mostly because it meant she had more insight into Eric. For once I'm not the one in her care, and she doesn't seem so terrifying.

"Of course. She'll be fine. I'm almost positive I know what's going on, but we'll make sure she gets some peace of mind." She pauses, then reverts back to being the Arlene that I know. "Everly, where is Eric? Why aren't all of you girls sleeping, especially you? Is there something going on?"

I glance around quickly, looking for a clock, surprised when I see that it is almost midnight. I briefly wonder if Arlene knows that they've brought Evelyn in. The infirmary is on the quiet side tonight, but not entirely empty enough that Arlene would have had the time to hear the latest news.

"Are you feeling you alright? You're looking a little run down." Arlene stares me, the concern on her face genuine. "Does Eric know you're here?"

"He's in a meeting," I tell her, not really wanting to be the one who spreads any information about Evelyn when I'm not even sure what's going on. "It must be running late, and Tris felt sick, so we brought her here. And I'm fine, I'm just a little…tired." I stare at her, just waiting for her to try to tell me she's going to call Eric right this second and demand he monitor how long I sleep for.

But she doesn't.

"Tris is lucky to have you as her friend. Is Four in this same meeting?"

I nod, chewing on my lip. I have the sudden urge to bolt, because the longer I stand here, the easier it'll be for me to blurt out that Evelyn is here. Luckily, she doesn't press me for more information.

"I'll have Kelly try to reach Four and see if their meeting is over. If not, we'll keep trying." She seems distracted for a moment, before she looks directly at me. "I would suggest you girls go home and try to get some sleep. Tris will be just fine. She won't be here for very long."

"Thank you," I tell her again, glancing past her. I can see Christina and Charlotte hovering near the desk, waiting for me to finish. "Will you let me know when we can come back in? Especially if you can't get ahold of Four. I can stay with her so she isn't alone."

"Of course." She ends our conversation suddenly, without saying anything else except a short goodbye, and I head over to my friends. They stare at me curiously as the three of us step outside of the infirmary, all of us ignoring Molly's nosy stare.

"Is she alright?" Christina asks, looking more worried than ever as she hugs her elbows tightly.  
"Are we waiting out here? What if they can't get ahold of Four?"

"I think she's okay. But if they can't get ahold of him, then we'll go find him," I announce, my voice echoing in the empty hallway. "We can head up to the offices and…"

I stop talking at the sound of footsteps heading towards us. They are heavy, like boots stomping through the compound, and I wonder if our soldiers are preparing for war. The footsteps grow louder as they round a corner, and it takes me a second in the dim lighting to realize they belong to several familiar faces.

Four spies us first, followed immediately by Eric, Rylan, and Karl. None of them look happy; they all share a pissed off expression, and it only intensifies when Jason appears after them. Gone is the happy-go-lucky glee that's normally beaming from him; instead, he looks just as mad as the rest of them.

"God, she sucks. That was a waste of my night," Jason says the words loudly, causing both Charlotte and me to jump. "That woman makes me ill. Listening to her was torturous. They should have had something on hand for when she started speaking, because now I need something for this crushing headache," he continues, nearly plowing right into Four, who has come to a dead stop.

"What are you all doing here? Where's Tris?" Four asks, a concerned look crossing his face as he realizes his wife isn't standing with us.

"She's being seen by Arlene," I start to answer him, and his eyes flash with anger. "Christina said she texted Rylan to tell you, but we never got any answer."

"She just said to come down here," Rylan looks confused, then sheepish when he realizes what's going on. "Sorry, Four. She said not to worry. I didn't think it was urgent."

"Why didn't you say something? Is she alright?" Four turns to stare at Rylan for a split second, his face darkening at the lack of communication. In return, Rylan shoots a dirty look at Christina, who glares right back at him; I try to defuse the situation before it gets out of hand.

"She wasn't feeling well, but Arlene said she should be fine," I answer, glancing over at Charlotte. She looks a bit nervous at Four's agitation, and I silently try to reassure her he isn't mad at any of us, except maybe Christina. "We walked her down here about a half an hour ago. She had a few pains on her side and she asked to see the nurse."

My words do little to soothe his worry. To be fair, they would have sent Eric on a rampage through Dauntless before the speaker could finish uttering them. Even now, he's standing behind Four with an annoyed look on his face, and I notice him glance at the infirmary a few times.

"She's going for a practice run? Fantastic timing," he sneers, and Four throws him a dark glare before he turns and leaves us all standing there without another word.

"Bye," Jason calls out, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. "Thanks for the nice evening. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Hopefully, I'll recover from listening to your mother talk on and on for hours."

"You should go with him, Jason." Eric rolls his eyes and he stretches his neck to the side until I hear it crack. "Make sure he gets all his messages." He throws a pointed smirk in Rylan's direction.

Jason's loud snort drowns out Rylan's useless protest that he wasn't aware he needed to tell Four anything.

"No, thanks. I am going to grab something from the nurse, but I think Four can handle Tris all on his own." Jason waves us off without a smile, grouchily heading towards the doors in search of some pain relief. Charlotte and I share a quick glance with Christina, and for a moment, everyone stands there in silence. I could wring her neck for not telling Rylan to explain where Tris was, but maybe Christina just forgot.

I don't get to find out.

"We're going home," Eric barks, breaking the silence. "All of us. Tris will be fine."

Despite the fact that Eric doesn't work in the infirmary and isn't exactly a doctor, I nod my head at my friends. The three of us follow him without much hesitation. Charlotte takes hold of Karl's hand, Christina takes hold of Rylan's, and I take hold of Eric's with one final glance back at the infirmary. No one mentions Evelyn, but no one says anything else, either.

With the heavy mood hanging over us, we walk silently through the halls of Dauntless, the air more biting than ever.

 

 

Eric falls asleep first.

I'm not surprised. This day has been never-ending, and after giving me a quick rundown of what was happening with Evelyn — which at the moment was nothing — Eric reappeared from our bathroom, tossed his dress shirt aside, kicked his pants off and flopped down on the bed. He'd blearily told me that after hours of useless interrogation and ridiculous demands from her, she is being detained in a Dauntless holding cell until they come to a decision on just who the lucky person will be that will get to end her life. I tried to pry a few more details out of him, but his eyes were closing before I could even lie down beside him.

"Goodnight, Amity."

He said the words softly, strangely exhausted when I thought he'd be riled up. I'd been prepared for him to stomp out to punch at things until his hands bled — or someone told him he could now kill her — but instead he'd been rather subdued. I watch him for a long time, his face illuminated despite the dark lighting. I watch his chest rise and fall, his breathing slowing down until it's deep enough that I can be certain he won't wake, and then I reach over to touch him.

He doesn't move as my fingers touch his cheek first, then trail down the blocks on his neck until I reach his collarbone. He stirs momentarily then, but only to shift himself closer to me. I smile at his unconscious action, so sweetly unassuming when he's sleeping, then I gently kiss him goodbye and climb out of bed.

There's no way I'm sleeping after all this.

It's not just that I can't find a comfortable position in bed, it's that Evelyn is sitting in a holding cell in Dauntless, and she'll be executed before I can make peace with it. Right now is my only chance to find out why she did what she did, and hopefully figure out if she has an ounce of remorse for her actions. Deep down inside, I already know the answer is no. Even if there is a good reason, she'll simply twist her words around, justifying what she's done as though it's for the greater good, claiming that I should be honored to have been a part of her scheme.

But I still need to see her.

I dress quietly, pulling out clothing from a pile of things that fit more appropriately now. I've given up all hope of disguising my pregnancy, though I highly doubt there are many people in Dauntless that haven't figured it out yet. My leggings and shoes follow, and I leave without bothering to comb my hair. I check my phone for any messages I might have missed, clicking through the one that Christina sent to say she was home and she was sorry for the miscommunication; I respond by telling her I'll see her in the morning.

I shut the apartment door quietly, silently praying that Eric won't wake up. While I don't think he will, I don't really need him storming after me and insisting I stay at home. As brilliant as he is, he often overlooks what I am capable of because of his unrelenting fear that I'll be harmed.

It's sweet in a few ways; there's obviously no one he's ever felt this way about before, and his actions often come from a surprisingly pure place. There's always the risk that he might get mad that I left him in the middle of the night again, slipping away without waking him up, but I can't stay behind to find out. Had he been awake, he would have told me that he'd handle her, that he'd take care of her for me, and that it isn't worth it — that she isn't worth a second of my time. But it is worth it to me, and I want to do this on my own.

I want to look her in the eyes, making sure she doesn't dare look way, and I want her to tell me why. If there's a chance that she had some brilliant reasoning for all this, I want to hear it. I want to be able to tell her that I forgive her for everything she's done — for hurting me, for hurting those I cared about, and for the pain she'd easily inflicted upon us all — even if she isn't remorseful.

But I can't do it if Eric's there.

He's too overpowering. He'd be too furious with her, too violently angry to even entertain the thought of forgiving her, ready to put an end to her reign of terror right then and there. He'd see no point to my forgiveness, which is why I'm going on my own. He might see no purpose in forgiving her, but I do.

I hastily reach the end of the hallway, stopping in front of the elevators and pushing the button to call the car, trying to remember just where the holding cells I had toured during training are located. But luck is on my side tonight, because the elevator doors part open to reveal none other than Four, his mouth set in a grim line.

He holds the door for me, staring blankly ahead and only looking at me for a second.

"I couldn't sleep," I tell him, ignoring the fact that I don't exactly know where I'm going, and hoping he'll make the decision for me. I cock my head to the side as he waits for me to push a floor, and he grimaces even further when I don't. "And I'm gonna guess you couldn't, either."

Four turns and his lips quirk up a fraction of an inch.

I finally manage to smile at him. Ironically, nothing sums up my friendship with Four more than these late night adventures. I always seem to find him in the darkest hours, and much to Eric's chagrin, Four seems to always share the same sleepless nights as me. My friendship with Four had driven Eric mad at first, but it wasn't something I was willing to back down on. And it works out even better now — Eric can't really protest any longer considering we now both work with him.

It makes me feel better as Four hits the button for a rarely used level, and the elevator descends swiftly. My stomach drops as we plummet far into the depths of Dauntless in silence.

"There's no way I could sleep," he eventually mutters, patiently waiting as the elevator seems to suddenly slow down.

The doors open before I am really ready, revealing a dark hallway that I've only been down once before, accompanied then by Eric. It's cold and quiet and far beneath the ground, the sort of place that I wouldn't really want to enter by myself. I hesitate for a split second, waiting for Four, and together we step out of the elevator, then turn to stop and stare at each other.

"How's Tris?" I ask, pausing a good distance away from the heavy doors. There are two guards waiting outside of them. Both nod in recognition at us, but neither move. They will wait for us to unlock the doors, making sure we have proper authorization to be down here. And while I know from experience that the doors need a keycard to open them, and that mine would work, I want Four to swipe his.

"She's home, sleeping. She was fine, just some sort of practice contractions. She didn't want to wake you up by calling." He pauses, and his deep blue eyes don't look quite so dark for a second. "Thank you for taking her home and staying with her. This hasn't been the way I imagined I would be spending my wedding night, and I'm grateful you were there for her when I wasn't."

"Of course," I tell him, and I notice the guard coughs quietly. The area is small, and I'm sure they can hear everything we're saying.

For a moment, there is nothing but loud silence and an eerie hum from the electronic locks. Four clears his throat before he crosses his arms over his chest, his stare on the guards for just a moment.

"I came down here to talk to her without everyone else around. It was too much before. She knows how to play to an audience, and she wasn't about to let this chance slip by her." He stops, and I wonder if he'll let me go in there with him. If he won't, I can always go by myself, but I would feel better if the both of us went in together.

"Did you get anything out of her before?"

He shrugs, staring at the doors behind me. "Not really. She seems to think she's here to negotiate. That we'll be willing to hear her out." He pauses and sighs heavily. "She also knows everything that's going on. She knows I got married today, and she knows Tris is pregnant. It seems she's kept careful tabs on everyone here."

I suddenly feel even colder, like someone's thrown ice water all over me.

"She's been watching Dauntless?" I ask, knowing he's about to say yes.

He nods grimly. "For a while now. Even now, she's got her men out there. She's not dumb enough to think we aren't on alert, but she's got something planned. I can feel it."

"So you want to talk to her and find out what?" I ask, taking a step towards the door. Four follows me, matching my one step with an equally slow pace.

"Something like that." He hesitates again, staring right at me. "And you?"

"I knew Eric would never agree to let me come along with everyone to her interrogation, but I want to see her before she's executed. If I don't, I think I'll regret that I never took the chance. I want to know why…"

"She's not going to tell you why. It won't be the reasoning you want to hear. Trust me on this, Everly," he cautions me, holding my stare in place.

"I understand. But I have to do this. If I don't, I'll regret it."

Four must feel the same way. He finally nods his head in agreement, but his posture doesn't relax. In fact, he seems to tense up even further.

"Do you want me to let you go in there alone?" I ask him, peering up through my hair. Brushing it would have been a good idea, but there's no time for that now. "I just… I don't think you should see her alone at first. I think she's going to try something. She's going to try to make you feel wrong for going against her."

His face changes to surprise at my worry.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping my boundaries here, but what if she tries to hurt you? What if she says something that you can't get out of your head? She has nothing to lose. Landon did that to me when I was in the training class. He knew just what to say to make me doubt myself, and he knew I'd think about it long after I went home. I don't want her to do that to you. Not tonight."

Four doesn't say anything for a long time. I can tell he's contemplating what I've said, because he finally agrees, but not before taking a step closer to me.

"Fine. You can come with me. Say your piece to her and then we'll leave. But please tell me Eric knows you're here. I don't need him trying to murder me when he comes barging down here and finds you with Evelyn."

I smile up at him, knowing he's about to hate my next words.

"He's asleep," I tell him cheerfully. Four's expression turns sour when he realizes his words are a very plausible reality. "He won't wake up. He's exhausted and pissed off that no one let him kill anyone today. I doubt he'll wake up before I'm back. He sleeps like the dead."

"Until he doesn't, and he wakes up and discovers you're gone. Then he won't be sleeping like the dead. He'll be very much alive, trying to find you, and he won't be happy," Four warns, sounding much like he did the first time he told me to be careful around Eric.

"I don't see why he would be mad. I'm with one of the leaders of Dauntless. I'm just going to say what I need to say, and then I'll be done and back in bed before he's done dreaming."

Four doesn't look like he believes me, the same way he didn't look like he believed me when I told him Eric and I were nothing more than just another trainer and initiate. It takes him a minute before he motions for us to take a few more steps towards the door, swiping his keycard the second after the guards part. The doors open after a loud beep, the lights on the door panel flashing from red to green. His shoulders are somewhere near his ears as the doors slowly open, revealing a brightly lit cell.

Four takes a step towards the doorway, his dress shirt out of place amidst the rocky walls. He tilts his head to the side until his neck cracks. Then I see her rise up, her eyes narrowing on him as he stops a few feet away from the bars. Now I can't see anything but him; his shoulders relax down a fraction of an inch and I hear him speak, his words cold and clear and dispassionate.

"Hello, Evelyn."

 

 

Forgiveness does not come as easily as I thought it would.

I had planned on being the bigger person when I saw Evelyn. In my head, I could see myself clearly, generously granting her the forgiveness that I thought both of us needed, before returning home to Eric with a clear mind. I would have made peace with what she had done, knowing full well she would never have the ability to hurt anyone ever again, and gone to sleep a much happier Everly.

Instead, I stand beside Four, staring her down and feeling surprisingly unable to conjure up any feelings other than rage.

At first glance, Evelyn looks rougher than I remember. To be fair, my memories of her are a thankfully blurry mess, but despite that, there's a sense of familiarity about her, even behind bars. Her dark, curly hair is more disheveled, but she's still tall and thin, and her eyes are just as cold as I remember them. Her cheekbones seem sharper somehow, as though her real persona is starting to crack through her skin with every passing minute. And even though she's being held in a cell in the deepest and darkest part of Dauntless, she holds herself with a strange air of authority.

There is a tense second as Evelyn walks over to Four. Though she pays little attention to me, her stare mostly fixed on her son, her actions set off a spark of panic. I know that she is no physical threat from behind the bars, unless the emotional damage she could inflict is taken into account, but seeing her in person is far different than what I had imagined.

"It's good to see you again," she tells Four, her voice clear and even.

He stays silent at her words, refusing to say anything further. I can tell that she's waiting for him to say something else, and when he doesn't, Evelyn finally turns to look at me.

"Both of you," Evelyn smiles, but not kindly. I notice her look me up and down, and her face settles into something along the lines of disturbing satisfaction. "Everly, you certainly look well. I see your time back in Dauntless has been…productive."

I feel myself stiffen even as I try to ignore her little dig at me. It's nothing new, and coming from her, it seems a little juvenile. I try to remember exactly why I'm here; I came down here with a purpose, and I will not allow myself to be distracted by her petty insults. I pull myself up to my full height and I take a deep breath.

"Why did you come to Dauntless?" I ask her, refusing to waste another second. My question is nowhere near as eloquent as I had planned, but the speech I rehearsed in my mind has vanished completely. "Did you come to apologize for what you've done?"

She lets me finish before shaking her head and smiling at me as though I am a small child asking for a snack right before dinner. Her condescending attitude is irksome, even more so when she speaks.

"Why did I come here? You're really asking me that? Why are you here?" she asks me, amusement flashing across her face.

"I have some things I need to say to you," I answer flatly, ignoring the way she seems to be entertained by my presence. Suddenly, all of my reasons for coming to see her, especially telling her I wanted to forgive her, seem stupid. "Before this is over, I thought maybe you'd want the chance to apologize while you have it."

"You know why I'm here." Evelyn doesn't acknowledge what I said, nor does she break my stare, and I suddenly wish she'd look somewhere else, anywhere else, other than directly at me. She has a way of staring that makes me nervous, like maybe she has the upper hand after all, and that at any second, someone will be here to toss me over their shoulder and carry me back to the factionless. Like everything I've known isn't true, and it's all my fault. It's a slippery feeling, and I wonder if this is how Four felt his entire life before Dauntless.

"You know that there's a war starting," she says purposefully, her fingers curling around the metal bars. "And you need me to stop it," she continues, and I swear there's a smile playing on her lips. "I'm not sure why you'd think I'd stop by just to apologize to you."

She sneers at me, and my heart sinks as my urge to forgive her falters.

"For what you did. For kidnapping me, for making Eric think I was dead, for using me…" I start, but she interrupts me before I can list every horrible thing she did to me.

"I tried to help you. I tried to save you from a man who would have eventually killed you," Evelyn reminds me, her voice laced with impatience. "I tried to give you a new chance at life. You should have been thanking me."

"You never tried to save me," I tell her angrily, taking a step closer to the bars. "You tried to use me to get what you wanted."

She smirks.

For a split second I wonder how they all stood around her, listening to her talk, while simultaneously fighting the urge to kill her right then and there. This had to be why Eric came home looking irate and exhausted. I can only imagine the restraint it took for him to not walk behind her and snap her neck to the side.

"I don't think you really know what you're talking about," she answers, looking at me in contempt. "You think you're safe here, with him. But you're not. You're wrong. Eric would have done the same thing to you if that's what he was told to do. He's part of the problem, just as much as you are now."

"He was told to bring me to Jeanine and he didn't," I retort, and Four takes a step closer to me.

"Everly," he says my name roughly, and tilts his head towards me. "Everly, don't…"

"You had me kidnapped and almost murdered, just so you could get Dauntless to side with you, because you wanted to be in charge." I ignore him, pressing on, hoping she'll give in just a tiny bit. Just something, anything really, to let me know that she's aware of how wrong her actions were.

"We were on the same side, Everly. We were both a threat to Jeanine, just in different ways. I took you to help your leaders see that we could work together towards a common goal. That we both had things the other needed, and that we could strike a bargain to help each other out."

I recoil a bit at being called a thing, and I shake my head at her.

"And what about Four? You didn't just use me. You used your own son…"

"You know nothing about what I did for my own son," Evelyn's face darkens, and this time, her expression changes to something painful, something unfamiliar. "I did it all for him. Every last thing I've done was to make his life better..."

"Yeah, leaving him behind to fend for himself is clearly something every devoted mother would do." I cross my arms over my chest, and I can feel Four tensing up beside me as the conversation veers far away from what I'd imagined. I start to feel a little desperate as I realize my plan to forgive her is rapidly slipping through my fingers with every word she speaks. Maybe this won't work. Maybe she doesn't deserve my forgiveness after all.

"How dare you?" She looks at me maliciously, her whole body tense enough to shatter. "Mark my words, if things don't change, then you'll see," she warns, her stare directly on mine. "You can't possibly know the darkness I've gone through until you've experienced it yourself. And you will, but it'll be by your own hand." She pauses, and I resist the urge to walk away right then and there.

"No matter what happens, I would never abandon my child like that, especially not to an abusive husband," I tell her, and I hear Four inhale sharply.

"It was what needed to happen. Sometimes we make sacrifices for our cause. It wasn't personal…" she hisses, and I can't do anything but blink at her. I'm trying hard to not lash out, trying to keep myself from sinking to her level, but my frustration is starting to win out.

"I'm pretty sure it was personal to Four," I point out, and her face tightens.

"I don't owe you anything. Certainly not an explanation for why I did the things I did," she snaps. "Certainly not for what's about to go on."

"The only thing going on is a war that you started," Four informs her flatly. "A war that ends tonight. Even you can't pretend you won't be sentenced in the morning. That should send home the message that your crusade is done."

And just like that, the room seems to shift into darkness.

"Stop the sentencing," Evelyn tells him, but her words are not a command. They are a plea, from mother to son, softly spoken without a hint of the anger from before. "Tell them you need more time. Tell them that a decision can't be made yet, that you need—"

"That I need more time? Why would I do that?" Four asks sharply. He's standing close to me, and I can almost feel the internal struggle that's beginning to brew. "This is all you. You got the war you wanted."

"You and I know full well this isn't what I wanted," she tells him, and she presses herself as close to the bars as possible, her knuckles turning white. "You need me to stop all this. It isn't about me anymore. It isn't about revenge. It's about putting an end to a system that says one group is better than the others.

"You have firsthand experience with how people are simply discarded, thanks to the faction system. But you can be more, more than any one faction, more than just another cog in that system. We can still work together, be mother and son again," she promises him, and I can feel him flinch. "You were their next hope, you know." Her voice changes to something low and disappointed, and I want to tell her to shut up, because I know exactly what she's doing, and it's painful to watch. "I needed your help and you walked away from me. You abandoned everyone when they were looking to you for leadership."

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and see him struggling to keep a neutral expression while his hands ball into fists.

Shit.

"Four," I say his name loudly, hoping to bring him back to reality. She's trying to manipulate the situation, and while I know Eric would laugh in Four's face were he to suggest they give Evelyn more time, there's always the chance that Four will regret not thinking it over. But Evelyn doesn't deserve a second chance, not now and not ever.

"You still can help us. You can make a real difference. You can be the leader they want, the leader they need. Call off the sentencing," she pleads, her words heavy in the air.

Four stays silent, and I realize both Evelyn and I are staring at him. I can feel myself holding my breath, just waiting for him to say something.

After what feels like forever, he finally shakes his head.

"I don't need more time because I can't help you," he finally tells her, much to my relief. "Had I known this was what you were planning, I never would have gone to see you in the first place. I have no interest in taking up your cause or leading the factionless. I am happy with the life I have, the life I chose, the life I made for myself."

Evelyn takes a step back, and her expression changes to reflect utter betrayal. "You can't be serious. After everything I did for you, Tobias."

"You don't get to call me that anymore," Four looks directly at her, his voice hard and deliberate. "My name is Four."

Evelyn presses her lips together until they almost disappear.

"You know," Four's voice loses the temporary edge it had, returning to something that holds a speck of sympathy towards her. "I had hoped that when I saw you again, you'd be the person that I remembered you to be, the mother I had until I was nine. But you aren't that person anymore, and neither am I."

"We can change that. You still have time," Evelyn answers desperately, and in that moment, my heart grows heavy for her in a strangely painful way. She may not have given me any reason to forgive her, but her son's rejection is clearly a fate worse than her own death. I watch her lose it a bit, letting go of the bars as her last hope is crushed.

But she doesn't give up.

She tries changing tactics once more, waiting until she's sure she has his full attention.

"You did this. All of this. You walked away from me when I needed you the most," she says slowly, and Four takes a step back.

"No, Evelyn, you made your choice, and I made mine. It had to be done. Just like right now," he tells her, pausing for a moment as her expression falls. "But at least this time I get to say goodbye," he says softly, and I freeze in place.

Not because he's the one making this decision, one that will leave his mother vulnerable to execution, but because he's finally able to let go of her. Out of the two of us, he's the one who's come to forgiveness on his own terms, and he'll be able to walk away without any guilt or regrets weighing on his conscience.

It's admirable on his part; I could only be so lucky to find it within me to make peace with her. It's difficult for me to do, having witnessed the last few minutes of her trying to emotionally manipulate her own son, and worse yet, knowing that she sees nothing wrong with anything that she did.

"Let's go, Everly. Unless there's something else you need to say," Four commands, and I turn to look at Evelyn one last time, staring into the face of the woman who will no longer take up a single second of my thoughts. I have to let it go, even if she doesn't deserve it.

"Thank you for listening. I don't understand your actions, and I probably never will. But I can live with them now," I tell her, waiting for her to say something snide in return. But she simply shakes her head, paying no mind to me.

"Tobias, wait," she calls out, but Four is already at the heavy doors waiting for me. At her words, he throws a glance over his shoulder, one just long enough for him to catch a final glimpse of her before he nods his head.

"Goodbye, Mother."


	58. Forgiveness 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks to BK2U for your brilliant editing of this chapter!! 
> 
> I hope everyone has a great weekend. There are roughly 5 chapters of this story left! Thanks so much to everyone who has continued to read on :)

He's asleep when I return.

I slide into bed beside Eric, careful not to wake him up. He barely stirs, not even when I press myself as close as possible to him. I adjust the blankets, pulling them high up so I'm mostly covered, and I relax only when Eric sleepily slings his arm over me, his chest warm against my back.

"You okay?"

He mumbles the words into my hair, not really awake and none the wiser that I'd only just climbed into bed with him.

I nod, feeling the exhaustion from the past few hours wash over me. I'd left Four standing by the elevator, unable to think of anything else to say other than that I was sorry. While I did feel somewhat relieved after seeing Evelyn and making peace with her, it had come at the cost of feeling terrible for my friend. He couldn't be feeling too great right now, especially after the emotional manipulation she'd thrown at him. But he'd waved me off, heading home to his wife while probably trying to forget Evelyn's desperate shrieking of his name as we'd left the holding cell.

I push myself closer to Eric, thinking of the way Four had looked relieved, his face not nearly as morose as I'd expected it to be. I'd asked him if he was alright, not wanting him to wander off to down a stiff drink if he really just needed someone to talk to.

But he'd nodded, the barest of smiles flashing across his face before telling me he was ready to go home to Tris.

"Everly," Eric mutters, nudging me with his knee, and I close my eyes tighter, letting the day fall away from me.

"I'm fine, just really tired," I tell Eric sleepily, feeling myself start to drift off with surprising ease, despite my mind running through a million scenarios at warp speed. All of them blur together when Eric tightens his grip on me, his arm now protectively around my waist, and our baby kicks for the first time.

 

I spend the first hour of my day fighting to straighten my hair.

It feels slightly ridiculous given that Evelyn is here and that her men are likely scoping out our compound and waiting for some sign to attack; yet here I am, far beneath the ground, trying to style my hair. I find the action strangely soothing, the repetition easing my nerves as I stand in our bathroom, repeatedly straightening section by section until Eric yells from the kitchen.

"Everly, are you ever leaving for work or are you staying in the bathroom all day? Because I made you coffee."

He barks the last part, and I know he's clearly suffering, because a while ago he'd decided I should ease up on my caffeine consumption. It wasn't like it was ridiculous by any means, but he'd decided this after a call from his father. I'd happened to be drinking my first cup of the day beside him, and I'd watched him raise an eyebrow at me, then glare at the cup in my hand with narrowed eyes. My protest that it was my first cup fell on deaf ears, and it meant that he now makes decaf for us, which in turn makes us both cranky.

"I'll be done in a minute. I had to fix my hair," I call back, returning my stare to the mirror. I'd woken up to the same feeling as last night, the baby moving around enough that my pregnancy seemed to have accelerated overnight. The kicks felt like little flutters of nerves, but they were much stronger than that. It was hard to believe they were from our child, and it had hit me like a ton of bricks as I dressed quickly, pulling a dress over my head while the baby continually kicked at my ribs, that sooner rather than later, I'd have a child.

It made me feel a little strange, a little less like Everly than before. I'd stared into our bedroom mirror, trying to accept the fact that I was suddenly feeling sloppy and off-balance, all because of a tiny baby taking over my insides.

I'd immediately decided that fixing my hair would remedy the situation.

It had been a while since I'd gone with Eric and had it cut, and it was starting to feel a bit unruly. But I knew that he liked it the way it was. While I slept, it usually ended up a tangled mess that I would have to untangle in the morning. But Eric took great joy in twirling it around and pulling on it as he saw fit. He didn't like it up, he didn't like it braided, and he didn't like it any other way but all over him.

In a moment of brilliance, I remembered I had a straightener Christina had left long ago, and I'd gotten to work, realizing this was much better than obsessing over whether or not they'd decided Evelyn's fate yet.

By the time I was almost done, I was tired and hot and my arm hurt, but I was staring at a different version of myself. I felt marginally better, especially when Eric appeared, eyeing my hair with great interest.

"You look…different." He pauses, leaning against the door frame to watch me.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and it seems unfair that he still looks exactly the same as usual. Dark uniform, neatly parted hair, a steel piercing and steely eyes. He watches me for a few more minutes before he finally smiles and shoves a cup at me. "It looks nice. And here's your coffee. It's regular. I can't drink that other shit anymore. Daniel said the baby will be fine so long as you're drinking it in moderation and not all day long."

"Thank you," I gasp at his words, almost unable to take the cup from him fast enough.

He smirks, his lips quirking up a tiny bit as I take the first sip, but I can tell there's something else on his mind, and I know it isn't coffee.

"Did Daniel say anything else?" I ask him, setting the cup down on the counter. Eric observes me with a sharp stare as I return to finish the last few pieces of my hair. It doesn't take me very long, and when I'm done, he takes a step towards me.

"Not much. He had a meeting with the city council yesterday, and he said Cara asked about you and the baby. He said he misses you, and he hopes you're doing well."

I smile when he stops behind me, his hands finding my hips.

"I miss him, too," I answer, smiling even wider when Eric leans in and rests his chin atop of my head. "Can we visit him soon?"

Eric stays silent, his eyes dropping down to my stomach in the mirror.

"Eric?" I ask again, and I lean back against him. "He said we could stay with him. He said he had a few rooms. Maybe after Evelyn, we can…"

"Maybe after," he agrees offhandedly, and this time, the baby moves at the sound of his voice. My eyes widen as his narrow, and I take one of his hands to place it right where his son has decided to hang out.

"Say something else," I tell him.

"Something else," he parrots, and I wish I could capture this exact moment in time.

The baby kicks again, right beneath his hand, and Eric's expression changes. His jaw relaxes and his eyes lose the serious edge that they had before. He meets my stare in the mirror as his palm presses flatter against my stomach, right over the baby.

"It's the coffee. I told you he doesn't like decaf," I cheerfully point out, and this time, Eric smiles widely.

 

I savor my coffee while walking with Eric, my fingers intertwined with his. I feel a thousand times better with the caffeine coursing through my veins, and it's obvious Eric does, too. He even manages to greet a few fellow members as we walk past Linda's desk instead of scowling at them. We get stuck behind a slow-moving Tori, her arms full of papers and books, and I notice the office is busier than normal this morning.

"Good morning, you two," Linda chirps, her eyes lighting up with delight as we appear. Tori hesitates to choose a direction, but eventually she heads into Eric's office, and Linda waves us over to her desk.

"Eric, you've got Max and Rylan in your office. They've been waiting for a few minutes, but they're fine. They have plenty of muffins, but Max did note the meeting is urgent and all leaders are required to attend. Everly, you have a few calls that came in for you, and I stuck the notes on your desk. Nothing too urgent, but I told them you'd be in the office in a bit. Let me know if either of you need anything."

"Thanks," Eric answers, uninterested as ever. He looks irritable now, especially when Four rounds the corner from where his office is, looking a bit worn out. He doesn't seem quite awake yet, and he walks towards us unenthusiastically. "Four, you coming or what?"

Four nods at Eric's not-so-polite invitation to join him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Good morning to you guys as well," he greets us tiredly, and I would bet he's barely slept. I only hope it's for reasons other than he was up all night worrying about Evelyn. "I just got the email to head over for this meeting."

"Hi, Four," I tell him, and before I can say anything else, Jason bursts around the corner, sprinting at full speed until he crashes into Four, nearly spilling the drink in his hand. He somehow saves it, miraculously catching it before it splashes down Four's jacket.

"Hey, heads up. Harrison is here, and he's mad that someone used up all his creamer. I told him it was you, so now you know why he's pissed off. I wanted to give you time to be prepared when he yells at you," Jason tells him. He looks around furiously, and I can only assume he's looking for Harrison.

"What? I don't even like creamer. And I just got here," Four looks confused, even more so when Jason grabs his arm.

"Just tell him you'll bring him more." He then shoves Four forward a step and winks at Eric and me. "Payback for making me listen to your mother all night long."

"You think I wanted to sit through all that? You're right, I was thrilled she showed up during my wedding and wouldn't stop talking," Four snaps, and I watch as Eric's jaw tightens at the scene before him. I can only assume there is no amount of caffeinated beverages that will make this tolerable.

"That woman should be shot on sight. I never even got any cake," Jason informs him, rudely shoving past him when he realizes Four isn't moving. "I went home starving. She should be making me dinner."

"That woman is the reason we're waiting for your asses to get over here. Or maybe we should just have the meeting at Linda's desk."

Max's voice interrupts the chaos, followed by a scowling Harrison, who's glaring at Four with a vengeance. I watch them all, never more grateful that I can escape to the quiet of my own office, when Eric finally lets go of my hand.

"I'll see you after the meeting," he tells me, and he closes his eyes for a second. "I'm sure it'll be long, so just text me if you need anything."

"I will," I answer, taking a step forward and rising up on my toes to kiss him goodbye. I fully expect him to hesitate or maybe shove me towards my office, considering half of the staff is standing around glaring at each other, but he doesn't.

He kisses me back for longer than I'd expect, then breaks apart with a very pleased smile on his face. "See you in a few hours, Amity."

I smile widely at him, watching as he struts through the chaos, ignoring the startled expressions on everyone's faces.

 

"Have you heard from her?"

Christina asks me about Tris as she hands me a bagel, balancing herself on the visitor's chair in my office. I was absolutely delighted that I had a guest, even if it was only my friend who'd come by to see how I was. I knew she felt guilty about the miscommunication from last night, but she'd brought breakfast, and I couldn't really hold a grudge against her.

She told me she'd tried to call Tris twice to apologize and she'd also sent several messages. There was no response, and it was starting to get to her. To Christina, the silence was worse than if Tris had outright yelled at her.

"She might be sleeping," I suggest, logging into my email. If I was home, I'd certainly be sleeping.

Christina ponders over what I said while I take in the list of messages before me, selecting Cara's message first. I skim it, readily agreeing to her request to set up a factional visit as soon as possible.

"Oh, wait, she just responded." Christina's happy expression falls when she reads the message. "All it says is, 'I'm fine, thanks for asking.'"

"That's weird," I answer, still skimming the messages. "Did she say anything else?"

"She said, 'I'll see you soon.' "

I glance up at Christina. The message doesn't sound like Tris at all, in fact, it sounds more like Eric. I rack my brain for a good minute as I try to decide what to do. I could always try to call her, but she'd probably assume I'm sitting with Christina and she won't tell me anything if she thinks that. I decide that it would be better if I were to stop by instead. Knowing full well Eric's meeting will more than likely run far past its scheduled time, I come up with a plan to bring her lunch and check up on her without it seeming like I'm checking up on her.

"Don't worry about it. I'll stop by on my lunch break. Maybe she's still not feeling well. Or maybe she just wants some time to herself," I tell her, and Christina nods glumly.

"I told her I was sorry. You'll let me know if everything is okay?" She stands up, looking at her watch. "I've got to leave now or I'll be late for work. I don't need Bob bitching at me this early in the day. It's already going terribly."

"I'll text you, I promise. And don't worry, even if she's mad, she won't stay mad forever," I point out, and she perks up somewhat.

"I'll call you after work," Christina calls out over her shoulder, much happier than she was a few minutes ago. She waves goodbye, then vanishes through the door to hopefully beat Bob to work.

With that settled, I lean back in my chair, determined to be as productive as possible.

Maybe it was the straight hair, or maybe it was the coffee and the bagel, but it was like I suddenly had a newfound focus. I even managed to ignore my desire to text Eric and ask what was going on with Evelyn. Part of me desperately wanted to know, but the other part of me didn't really want to. However, I had requests to schedule meetings in other factions, and I didn't even know if travel would be approved, given the circumstances. So instead, I planned out my factional visits for a few weeks from now, figuring Evelyn would be long gone and everything would be normal by then.

By eleven o'clock, I've finished up almost everything I needed to do.

I cheerfully step out into the office, stopping at Linda's desk to see if Eric had come out of his meeting at all. I was hoping I'd catch him on a break, that I'd have a few minutes to talk to him in his office, so my stomach tightens when she points to the break room. I head towards it, and I'm unable to stop myself from grinning at the sight of Harrison drilling Four about break room etiquette and informing him how it was his name on that creamer and not Four's. I find Eric off to the side, violently stirring a cup of coffee as he observes everyone around him, a dark expression on his face.

"Hi," I greet him, and he looks up from his drink and realizes I'm right in front of him. "How's it going?"

Eric frowns at me and upon further inspection, I notice he looks a bit sulky.

"How's it going? It's going nowhere," he answers flatly. "They won't let any of us execute her because they want her put on trial first. Max wants her taken to Candor since we aren't getting anything out of her. The others will be here before lunch to vote on it, but it's more than likely they'll agree to take her there."

I stare up at him as he bites down on the side of his cheek and glares at the ceiling.

"The only reason I'd agree to it is because it makes sense. We need to know what she has planned. We don't want to risk an attack on any of the factions right now, and our guess is she's got a few planned to start as soon as they catch wind of her death." He looks right at me and sighs. "If the decision is made, she'll be taken to Candor tonight or tomorrow. So until then, it's just a lot of paperwork and sitting around listening to everyone argue."

"Will you be the one to do it? Would you execute her?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

"Max says I have too much personal involvement in it." He rolls his eyes, and I can tell he'd very much like to be the one to shoot her. "It'll be someone impartial. I have a few ideas on who they'll pick, but it definitely won't be me or Four."

"I would hope they wouldn't ask him," I tell him softly, glancing at Four out of the corner of my eye. He's standing with his arms crossed as he patiently waits for Harrison to stop ranting about his coffee creamer. "I can't imagine he'd want to do that to his own mother."

"He wouldn't. Even after all she's done, he still wouldn't shoot her," Eric stops and glances at his phone, then shoves it back in his pocket. "Did you eat lunch yet?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm going to stop by and see how Tris is doing and bring her lunch. She wasn't answering Christina, and I thought maybe I'd visit and see if she's feeling better."

Eric doesn't look thrilled, but he nods his head. "Sounds like a great time. I'll see you afterwards. We should be done by then." He then glances at his watch and scowls. "Our meeting should be starting up again. I'm hoping we can wrap this up soon."

"Okay." I smile. "I hope the rest of the meeting is better."

"Doubtful," he grunts, and I crack up at the nasty grimace on his face, which lessens marginally when he extends his hand towards me. "I'll walk you out," he offers, and I automatically reach for his hand, walking beside him and out of the break room.

We pass Linda, who waves at us before we reach the elevators, and I don't let go of his hand even as he pushes the call button. I was hoping we'd have more time to talk, but it's looking like this might be my only chance today.

"Eric, I need to talk to you for a minute," I say brightly, and he stares down at me.

"Everything okay?" he asks, but his eyes flash back to the break room. I can tell he is woefully distracted; I mentally debate if this is the time for such a conversation.

"Yeah, it's fine. It's just that…."

I hesitate, and he smiles — preoccupied as ever — and I realize it's now or never. I'd woken up with the intention of telling him that I'd gone to see Evelyn, but I was too happy being curled against him, right up until the moment his alarm went off for a second time. He'd hopped out of bed before I was really awake, never giving me the chance to say something. Now I'm hoping he won't be furious that I went with Four to see Evelyn, but I'd rather he find out from me than from her.

"Eric…" I say his name again, and his head jerks back towards me. "I...uh…I need to tell you something."

His expression changes, returning to the pissed off one that he usually wears before he hears news he doesn't want to hear.

"Uh, remember last night when you woke up and asked if I was alright?" I begin, pausing when he nods his head. "I wasn't sleeping. I mean I was fine, but… I had just gotten home, because I went to see Evelyn."

I say the last part in a rush, and for a very long moment there is silence. He doesn't even blink, he just stares at me for a long time.

"Why?"

I stare back at him, watching his face carefully. He doesn't look thrilled, but his tone doesn't hold the anger I expected. It's very even, as if maybe he should have known this was what I was going to tell him.

"I thought... I thought I wanted to see her because I wanted to forgive her. I know you're going to think that sounds stupid, but I felt like I should. I wanted to ask her about what she'd done. Why she'd kidnapped me, why she'd hurt Four. I just wanted some answers from her."

Eric stays silent, his left eyebrow rising slightly.

"How did it go? Did you get your answers?"

I frown, preparing for his smug grin when I tell him no. "She didn't exactly care. She saw nothing wrong with what she'd done, and she thought it was funny that I had gone down there. Then she tried to manipulate Four into giving her more time before her sentencing."

"Of course she did." He rolls his eyes as he lets go of my hand. "Do you still think she deserves forgiveness?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shake my head, and my stare falls to the ugly print of the office carpeting. I try to imagine the poor person tasked with scavenging the material, dragging it through the deep walls of Dauntless, and measuring it out to cover the floors.

"No? Maybe? I don't know. She basically said she used me. She didn't care at all what she'd done or who she'd hurt. I felt stupid for hoping otherwise," I confess, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. I had left on my own terms, but it hadn't exactly turned out the way I'd planned.

Eric can tell.

"Don't feel stupid," he says, and I examine the stripes on the ground hard enough that they blur together. "It takes a bigger person to forgive someone who doesn't deserve it. Not many people would have given her a second thought, let alone a chance to be forgiven. And I'm not surprised you went to see her."

This time I look up at him, realizing he's staring right at me.

"I know what she did to you, and I know that it bothered you that she did it without any sort of guilt. I just wouldn't have expected her to apologize, that's all. But it's not a bad thing that you wanted to forgive her," he mutters, moving to pull me against him. I have to look up at him from beneath a piece of stray hair, and he pushes it out of my eyes. "Honestly, I'd expect nothing less from you."

"You aren't mad?" I ask, peering up at him, my heart beating rapidly now. I know that it won't be devastating if he is, that he's allowed to feel the way he does. After all, I went off without him, and I'm telling him all this after a long and pointless meeting. I would expect that his response would be to snarl that I had no business going down there without him, let alone with Four.

But I can tell he isn't mad, not at all. He shakes his head again, and his shoulders relax a fraction of an inch.

"No. You know I trust you," he tells me, his voice low and even. "And if you felt it necessary to forgive her, then I stand behind you on that. Do I think she deserves it? No. Would I forgive her? No. But do I think it's admirable and very Everly of you to want to forgive her? Yes."

The weight that was hovering over me disappears, at least until Eric's expression turns serious and a bit troubled.

"Can I ask why you went with Four? Was there a reason you didn't want me to know you were going? I've told you before that you can wake me up for any reason and I won't be mad."

"I didn't go with him on purpose. He was just in the elevator when I got into it," I tell him, though he still looks a bit skeptical. "I was planning on talking to Evelyn alone. I thought you wouldn't want to go, that you'd think it was pointless for me to even try. You had already fallen asleep, and I couldn't manage to sleep, so I left. When I ran into Four and found out he was on his way to see her, I thought it would be better if the both of us went together."

I pause, waiting for Eric to say something. He's still silent, taking in every word with a funny expression on his face.

"But, I really didn't want to intrude on him, either. So, I asked him if he'd rather go alone, and he said it was fine if I went with him. He actually pointed out that you'd be mad if you knew I was down there without you."

This time, his reaction is what I'm expecting.

He rolls his eyes and shrugs.

"I certainly would have been worried to wake up and find you gone. But I don't want you to be afraid to tell me things. You could have said you wanted to see her. I would have taken you, if that was what you truly wanted."

I smile at Eric, especially when he ignores the dinging of the elevator and pulls me closer against him.

"You would not have taken me to see her. You would have told me to go to bed," I tease him, and he smirks.

"Probably. But you still could have told me, and I wouldn't have been mad. If that's what you needed to do in order to move on, then I can respect that. Just like I can respect the fact that our star leader needed to see his mommy one last time."

"Eric," I say his name warningly, and he grins widely.

"Fine. I'll chalk it up to a 'private interrogation' on his part. But Everly, you know I'll always listen to you. If something is important to you, then it's important to me."

The elevator dings again, and now it sounds particularly impatient.

"Thank you," I tell him, and I suddenly wish neither of us had plans this afternoon. I want him to take me home, curl up on the couch beside me, and just do nothing for the rest of the day except exist together. It suddenly seems like there's not enough time in the world for just him and me: not now, not ever.

"I'll see you when you're back from visiting Tris," Eric reminds me, as though he can read my mind. "If we're done in time, we can head home early."

I nod, taking a step into the elevator. It's empty, and I stand there refusing to push the button I need. Eric watches me, a smile faintly reappearing on his lips.

"I'll call you if anything changes," I tell him, and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Bye, Amity."

"Bye, Eric."

The elevator dings again, and this time the doors close, one of us standing on either side, staring at each other.

 

It feels like a long walk up to Tris and Four's apartment.

She answers after my first knock, smiling as soon as she sees it's me, and graciously invites me in. She looks much better than last night; gone is the panicked expression and the pale skin, and instead there is a well-rested, relaxed-looking Tris.

She quickly tells me that the pains were simply practice contractions, and Dr. Denten assured her she'd be fine. She looks a little pink when she tells me that she felt bad the doctor came all the way in just to have nothing be wrong, and I realize her text to Christina had nothing to do with being mad and more to do with being embarrassed that she'd asked us to take her to the infirmary.

"That's her job. I'm sure she didn't mind," I reassure her, sitting down at her kitchen table, having already unloaded the lunch I'd grabbed for us. I had made a quick stop in the dining hall before heading up here. It had been mostly empty, so I'd been able to grab us tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches instead of cold hamburgers and lukewarm fries.

"I hope she didn't." Tris takes the seat beside me, chewing on her lip. "She wasn't mad at all, but I felt sort of dumb for wasting her time. She told me to expect to feel them off and on as my due date gets closer. I'm sure you'll have them soon, too." She takes a bite of her sandwich, looking much better than last night. "Thank you for bringing this for me. I was just going to make something here."

"Of course. And I can't wait. They sound really fun," I tease, reaching for my own sandwich. I wasn't hungry until now, and I realize it's been a whole three hours since I've eaten. It seems like forever ago that Christina stopped by with breakfast and a panicked look on her face. "Are you nervous about having the baby? Your due date is coming up soon, right?"

Tris looks at me and she nods slowly, as though confessing some deep, dark secret.

"It's soon, and I'm terrified. She gave me a few different ideas about pain medications and different ways to give birth, but they all seem scary. Have you thought about it at all? Or made any sort of plan?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I know Eric will want me to be in the hospital with a million doctors and nurses around, but I don't know what to expect there. I watched my mother deliver a number of babies back in Amity, but they don't use the same sort of pain medications there. To be honest, I don't think they have anything other than the peace serum. But I think I want something in between the two."

Tris sets her sandwich down and stares at me. "Wait, are you saying they don't use anything? Doesn't it hurt? Dr. Denten said that past a certain point it'll be too late for any sort of medication, and that some women in Dauntless prefer to have a natural birth. They think it's braver that way. She said it didn't matter, that it was up to me."

I take a bite of my soup, debating on how much to share with her.

There were more than a few times in Amity, when I was much younger, that my mother had dragged me along with her under the guise of assisting a laboring woman with moral support. The Amity medical center was equipped with a birthing area, if you considered just a few separate beds in a small room a birthing center, and was woefully understaffed. They didn't have any of the high-tech machines that Dauntless had, and there weren't any fancy monitors to watch the baby on, nor were there any of the sharp Erudite nurses hovering to make sure the patients were alright. There was only my mother, a few other older women who assisted her, and lots and lots of candles and peppermint oil.

I'd quickly learned it wasn't anywhere I wanted to hang out.

I was there for hours at a time, watching these women — all looking like they were about to go mad with pain — as they spent hours in labor. Despite my mother's cheerful attitude and plant-based pain relief, it was obvious to me that there was no amount of essential oils slathered on their temples or moral support that would calm them down. The peace serum didn't even take away the pain the same way medication would have, it simply diminished their reaction to it. They still felt it, and some women, even in Amity, didn't handle it very well.

It didn't matter how they had chosen to give birth. Some chose to give birth in the water, some chose to have my mother stick them full of acupuncture needles and breathe in and out furiously, and some chose to simply have a little more peace serum and squeeze their husband's hand, but they all did it. After hours, sometimes days, there was one final intense wave of pain and a lot of screaming as the baby came.

They all seemed to forget about that pain pretty quickly.

Almost immediately, their faces lit up in relief, in happiness, even in pure joy as they heard their baby cry for the first time.

I'd held a few of the brand new babies, all slippery and squirmy and screaming their little lungs out, before handing them off to their exhausted and usually pale-looking mothers. It almost felt intrusive for any of us to be there, watching them, blissful and overjoyed, and I knew it wasn't entirely the peace serum.

If you asked me, the women in Amity were truly the brave ones.

But telling Tris that wouldn't do anything except perhaps frighten her.

So I take a long swallow of my soup, stalling for time.

"It can hurt," I finally offer up, not wanting to share the memories that I'd tucked away. The truth was I'd never really thought about giving birth there, because I'd never planned on staying and having children in Amity. But faced with the looming reality that Eric's child would be born one way or another, I'd have to start thinking about these sorts of things, and soon. "I'd rather give birth in Dauntless than in Amity. There are a lot of things that can go wrong, but here, there's a medical staff that's trained to handle things like that."

Tris nods, and she looks the tiniest bit less uneasy. "Do you think you'll have the baby here? Or does Eric have other plans? He seems like he'd have it all figured out."

I wrinkle my nose at her. "He has some idea of what he thinks will happen. But this is one area that he has no experience in. I think he believes he can control when the baby will arrive."

Tris smirks. "That sounds a lot like the Eric I know. I heard that first babies are usually late. Dr. Denten told me not to expect ours to arrive anywhere near the due date they gave us."

"They come whenever they decide they're ready," I answer, and I take a long sip of the water she'd given me. "I think Eric is going to be in for the surprise of his life."

Tris smiles widely. "Four, too. But it'll be a good distraction from what's going on. It'll help take his mind off Evelyn. Get him back in a better mindset."

Her words make me worry, immediately thinking that maybe Four isn't handling this very well.

"I saw him heading into his meeting this morning. Is he doing alright?" I ask her, not really sure if there's an answer to that question. Four's decision to say goodbye was the lesser of two evils, but that didn't make it any easier. To top it off, he'd had little time to process it, almost immediately being thrust back into work. "He seemed a little down this morning."

Tris looks over at me, struggling with an answer. She finally speaks, looking at her soup.

"I guess. He was really quiet when he left for work, but I don't expect him to be jumping for joy. I told him I support whatever he does, but I think he feels guilty for not giving her another chance. I can only assume he's torn about letting her go, like maybe he should try to make amends, but he said she doesn't want that. He said she still wants him on her side, even knowing nothing will come from it. She still believes her ideals can live on through him."

When she's done, her words sound angry, and rightfully so.

"He did message me a short while ago to say they'll probably be taking her to Candor, where they'll administer a serum to make her talk." She stabs her soup with her spoon before she looks at me. "Will you go with them when and if they decide to execute her?"

I shake my head.

I won't be going, and I am fine with that. There was a time when I would have wanted to be there when she took her last breath, knowing her mission was done. But that isn't important to me anymore. I'd said what needed to be said, and I have other things to focus on.

"No, I'll stay here. I don't think I need to be there, and I'm good with that. I don't really have a reason to ask to go along," I tell her, finally allowing myself to shut Evelyn out of my life. I'd never really had the urge to watch her be executed, I just wanted it to happen. After all, I've gotten the best revenge possible, because my life has continued on while hers will be coming to a grinding halt. I don't need to see her blood spill just because I can.

Tris smiles sadly and she sets her spoon down. "I hope Four chooses not to go. Do you think they'll give him the option?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly, taking another spoonful of soup. "Eric didn't say anything about who had to be there." I pause, ready to tell her that my guess would be that Max will be the one to decide, when my phone rings shrilly.

Eric's name flashes across the screen again and again, and I fumble to answer it. I accidentally hang up on him, but he sends a message almost immediately, and I read it out loud to Tris, darkening the mood in the room in a flash.

We've made a decision and worked out all the details. Meet us in the conference room for your briefing on the security alerts. You'll have some work to do in advising the factions about what's going on. The meeting starts in twenty minutes.

 

Of course, the meeting I'd been requested to attend is a shit storm from the moment I walk in.

Four sits looking darkly somber, Harrison looks red and sweaty, and Eric looks torn between being delighted and pissed off. He eyes me sharply as soon as I step into the room, motioning for me to sit by him and him alone.

I take the empty seat in front of him, and when I do, he stands behind me with his arms crossed over his chest. I can only assume he's surveying the room with a nasty look on his face.

Max slides an open notebook full of chicken scratches over to me along with a pen, but he doesn't look at me — he's too busy listening to Tori hurl a million words at him, her displeasure loudly expressed as she slams her hands down on the table over the decision to take Evelyn to Candor.

"You're making a mistake," Tori loudly informs him, continuing on that she doesn't care to hear Evelyn explain herself, she wants her dead, now.

Same with Harrison. Same with Jason, who shoots me a few careful looks, his eyes full of disgust when Rylan voices that he agrees with Max, calmly stating that he wants to hear what she has to say, that her victims deserve to know the full story. He stops talking when our eyes meet; he blinks a few times, as if it's just dawning on him that I'm a victim of what she's done, and that I'm sitting right here.

"Sorry, Everly. I didn't mean it quite like that, I just…" he mutters quietly, his cheeks turning red as he runs his hand over his hair. "I just think she should go to trial."

The room grows silent and I can feel everyone looking at me as Eric stiffens behind me. "It's fine," I tell everyone, mostly Eric, reaching back for him. I grasp at the fabric on his jacket, not wanting him to murder his friend right now. Rylan is a good guy, and I know he is just as frustrated as everyone else in the room. "Just tell me what I need to know and what you want me to relay to the other factions. I'm assuming you'll want them on the lookout for anything and everything right now?"

My words distract them.

"You're sure you're good to go?" Tori asks, her brown eyes trained on me. "Because they know she took you. Her men will want revenge. This isn't as cut and dried as putting her on trial for a few hours and then it's over. Once it's done, they'll be looking for someone to take as revenge. Not to mention the fact that they'll know you're pregnant the minute they see you. You'll be worth more to them now…"

"It'll be fine," I answer, and I sit up straighter. "Is she leaving today or tomorrow?"

"Eric, you're good with this?" Tori asks, and I bristle at the fact that she sounds like she's asking his permission.

"I said it's fine, Tori," I announce, and she shakes her head, throwing a dark look at Max.

"That's not even remotely safe. That's just flat out stupid," she retorts.

"It's not ideal, but if she says she's fine, then she's fine," Eric barks at her, but I can feel him bristling behind me, his fingers brushing my shoulder blades. "For now, she'll send out emails to each faction. There's no way she can visit every leader before the trial. But when she does, she'll go with a security escort. Same as any other ambassador would. We will send an extra detail, and we'll make sure the message is clear that we're not to be messed with. There is nothing for any of us to fear right now, because we have the upper hand here."

"Uh, there's a lot of stuff for us to fear now," Jason mumbles, but no one pays attention to him.

They're all looking at Eric, especially Max, and I know why.

This is the same man who'd once deactivated my keycards for fun, who'd panicked when he'd woken up without me beside him and confessed that he couldn't sleep well if I wasn't there, who'd made my safety his utmost concern — then made it the entire faction's. The man who'd married me to keep me safe, who'd monitored my every move to protect me from any danger, all because he loved me even when he didn't know how much he did. I know that he has to be dying on the inside, the thought of me leaving Dauntless eating away at him. Yet here he is, having agreed to it, simply because he'd told me he trusted me.

I know that he does, and now he is going to show me.

"Evelyn will be taken to Candor tomorrow. If she's found guilty, she'll be executed there. After the trial, Everly will meet with the factions to keep them alerted to what's going on. We'll increase security everywhere, including around here. I'd also like to send men out to where she's been hiding out, her former headquarters, and Abnegation. We know this doesn't end with her death. We may be dealing with a riot of sorts as a fallout from it," Max concludes, and the room explodes into heated arguments.

"What do you mean, if she's found guilty?"

Someone asks the question before I can, igniting the debates that I imagine went on all morning. Some for why she should live to see another day, others for why we should make her execution public. Some insisting that her men far exceed the amount we're thinking, even pointing out that they might attack here first.

"Time out. Everly, how many men does she have? Do you remember seeing a lot?" Jason asks me, and his words shut everyone up. "Do you think they have enough that we should be worried?"

Eric takes an impossible step closer to me, his fingers knotting in the very ends of my hair until it grows painful.

"I don't honestly remember how many she was training," I answer Jason, sitting up a little straighter. "I only remember being surrounded at all times, and she seemed to have plenty to spare. She was never worried about them being killed off. But I do know that there a lot of factionless, more than I'd expect."

They all take in my words as I catch Four's eye, and he nods.

"She has a fairly large army," he throws out. "More than you're thinking. Less than she'd like. Not as large as the Dauntless army, but enough that they could potentially do some damage. They won't be happy about the death of their leader. They have an allegiance to her. They believe she gave them a home when others forced them out."

The room stays quiet. I doubt any of them have really ever thought about just how large her army could be, but it's impossible to pinpoint a number. I'd seen them come and go, wandering in and out as they were needed, even some going back to their home factions.

Her network could be more complex than anyone knows.

"They aren't all factionless, either," I tell them, and Eric's hand slips, yanking on my hair as I'm sure he flashes back to Landon. "Some joined even though they have homes."

"Great," Harrison snaps. "This is beyond what we've been thinking…" He trails off, taking a long sip of his bitter, black coffee before slamming it back down on the table.

The room stays silent for a long time. It starts to feel a bit surreal, as though maybe I'm dreaming this meeting, and I'll wake up to find myself in bed, starting my day all over again.

That feeling vanishes when Eric speaks, his voice cold and nasty.

"Then it'll be all the better when we finally kill them, every last one of them."

 

Eric stares at me while he gives the speech.

His eyes look dark and cold, but it fits the current mood amongst the leaders who stand behind him. I stand and watch with the rest of the faction, my neck craned up to look at him, except this time I stand beside Christina instead of Four.

"They're taking her tomorrow?"

She whispers the words as she reaches for my hand, and I nod as she's pushed closer to me. The Pit is full, more than full as the patrol squads pile in, taking turns to hear Eric for brief amounts of time.

"Everly," Christina nudges me, and I tear my eyes away from Eric.

"They want to find out what she was doing before they sentence her," I whisper back, trying to keep my voice down. "They think her men are planning an attack, either before or after her trial."

"Oh."

For once, Dauntless is silent as they listen to Eric. He speaks eloquently, informing them of our new safety measures, of the plans to protect each faction, then finally reminding them they are not to be afraid. They are trained specifically for this, and they are the ones the city will look to in its time of need. He recites a few pieces of our Dauntless manifesto, easily working them up into a frenzy at the prospect of fulfilling their purpose here.

"If they're going to kill her, they should just do it now."

Christina says the words a little too loudly, her voice dripping with exasperation, and a few in front of us turn around. I smile at them, noticing the way they easily smile in reply before turning back around as Eric finishes up his speech. I scan the crowd, looking for Tris, but I see nothing except the soldiers, coming together as one. The feeling is almost palpable as everyone suddenly demands Evelyn's blood, loudly proclaiming their support.

"This is effective immediately."

I missed what Eric was saying, but I must be the only one. Everyone else lets out a loud roar in agreement. A few start clapping, and before long, the Pit is the noisiest I have heard it in a long time as everyone joins in. It's deafening, an overwhelming war cry that seems to make the crowd pulse.

We've barely finished the meeting, but Eric is already commanding the changes in our security, rapidly assigning men left and right as he stalks away.

"Let's get out of here before it turns into a madhouse," I suggest, remembering the last time we had a meeting like this. I'd been lucky that Four had been next to me and willing to leave when I was.

Thankfully, Christina agrees with me. She glances around quickly, looking for our best route of escape, but we don't get to take a single step before a hand touches my shoulder. Thrown off, I turn around, but the face isn't familiar.

"She'll pay for what she did to you," a young man, one that is tall and broad, tells me as he pats my shoulder roughly. "We'll make sure her men don't see the light of day."

His words aren't swallowed up by the crowd, but instead they seem to bounce off the rocky walls of the Pit. Those around him follow suit, nodding and vocalizing how she will get what's coming to her, all in my defense. I finally put his face to a name, remembering I'd walked with him once, following along in Peter's patrol squad. "She deserves what's coming to her."

"Thank you," I tell him, feeling a thousand kinds of awkward as he motions for his friend to join him. I hear him say my name, followed by Eric's.

"She's the one that survived Evelyn abducting her."

He means well, but his words are a nasty reminder of why I wanted to forgive her, and they bring a rush of heat to my cheeks. My anger tapers down quickly when his friend shakes his head and extends his hand to me.

"I'm sorry for what she did. I was there with Karl when they took you. He uh, well, we all looked for you for a long time. I haven't really seen you around here since, only a few times when you were with Eric. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner."

I shake his proffered hand and smile at him. There are plenty of members watching us, and their expressions are all the same. They are no longer merely curious, but strangely supportive.

It's a far cry from the jealous looks and the whispers that came during my first few years here.

"It's okay," I tell him, and he lets go, taking a step back as Karl makes his way over to me.

He pauses, allowing me the time I need, then motions for me to follow him. Christina waves me off, shoving her way through a small opening near the men I was talking to.

"Eric wants you," he tells me, but not until we are mostly away from the crowd. I thank him, following him through a few more swarms of black until we reach the staircase. He stops there, flashing his badge at the guards at the bottom.

"What is going on?" I turn in confusion at the sight of them. I've walked up these stairs countless times, and never once was there a guard posted here. But I also wasn't meeting with the other leaders, and there never was any threat against them. I wait until both guards silently nod their approval for me to head upstairs before I take a step up, then turn to look Karl. "Karl, what is all this?"

"Eric said it starts now," Karl announces, and my knuckles grip the railing as it sinks in just exactly what's happening.

The beginning of the end.

 

The rest of the night passes by just as I would expect it to.

It is heavy with anticipation and dripping with nervousness.

I eat a quiet dinner with Eric and Max, the two of them lost in deep conversation over their plans for tomorrow, lowly discussing just how Evelyn will be taken to Candor. Their words make me feel strangely edgy, almost antsy, and I distract myself by washing the dishes over and over before neatly arranging them to dry.

I go to bed before Eric, wishing Max a goodnight and locking eyes with my husband. I'm suddenly reminded of the man I first met here, the one who worked countless hours for Jeanine, only slowing down when he was assigned to train me. He wears the same intense stare now as he looks up from the couch, his gaze cutting through me until I turn to walk away.

Hours later, I'm still awake, even though I know I am safe here, far beneath the earth, pressed against Eric's chest. I still can't help but feel like I'm waiting for something bad to happen. The anxiety seems to worsen the more I try to sleep, but it lessens when Eric kisses my forehead.

The action is rare, far more chaste than what he'd prefer, but it helps quiet my thoughts. I sigh, leaning into him, and his fingers trail up my back, scratching lightly until my eyes close.

"Goodnight, Everly," he whispers, his voice sounding tight and quiet.

One of his hands moves up to my hair, cupping the back of my neck, and I feel him sigh heavily as he shifts closer to me.

"Goodnight, Eric," I answer, finally giving into the heavy feeling settling over me. I fall asleep a moment later, dreaming of nothing.

 

The ice cream was my idea.

What my friend probably needed was a drink. Something stiff and bitter that would wash away the last image of his mother being taken out of the darkest part of Dauntless and loaded into a waiting truck. Something that would burn as he swallowed it, burning away any lingering doubts he may still have.

Unfortunately, walking into Clyde's so early would have raised quite a few eyebrows, so this was the best I could do.

I came up with the idea while standing under the warm sun, along with what felt like everyone else in Dauntless. I had been hoping that maybe he and I wouldn't be there when they brought Evelyn outside, that we'd be excused from seeing her one final time.

But neither of us was truly exempt from what was going on, and we were both required to be down there along with the other leaders. It had been announced that the selection of those would be accompanying her was being based off seniority. Eric and Max would drive her to Candor, Harrison and Rylan would follow immediately behind them, then Jason and Tori. Behind the leaders were multiple patrol officers, including Karl, leaving Four and me to stay behind to oversee the faction.

I could only hope that this wouldn't weigh too heavily on Four, especially since he hadn't been planning on seeing her again. The last time had been wretched enough, even for me, yet I found us standing and observing with an intense stare as she was marched out of our lives one final time.

Even in handcuffs, she was the same Evelyn that we'd seen in the holding cell. The one that was cunning and vile, ready to use him all over again if she could. As she'd walked by us, she'd thrown him one darkly pleading look that he'd managed to ignore, her eyes narrowing in disgust when he didn't bat an eye.

I thought back to her begging him to give her more time, moments before she'd told him that he'd been the one to abandon her. It had made my insides feel raw that she'd chosen something so heartbreakingly unfair to throw in his face, that those would be her last words to him, but maybe it was enough for him to realize she'd never be the mother he remembered.

Or maybe not.

He'd looked a little nauseous when Eric had slammed the truck doors shut before heading around to the driver's side. They'd taken off wordlessly, Eric nodding goodbye in my direction as he waited for the gates to open. The guards were heavily armed, and it was clear there was not a chance in hell anyone was coming through unless they belonged here.

It also meant it was taking far longer for the trucks to leave than normal.

"Did you say goodbye to Eric already?" Four had muttered, squinting in the sunlight. He had stood still beside me the entire time, only taking a step back when a few men jogged past us. The morning routine could now fall back into place; there were deliveries scheduled to arrive today, there were patrols that would resume, and there were men coming and going.

I watched as the first truck signaled that it was leaving, driving through the gates and accelerating as it headed down the winding road. I watched the others follow, the large, intimidating trucks forming a neat processional.

"I said goodbye earlier," I'd told him, unable to really say much more. I'd already spoken to Eric this morning, dressing beside him as he told me who was going with him. "But hey, come with me. I need your help."

I'd led him back inside without any hesitation.

Our descent into Dauntless was quick; I carefully navigated the narrow walkways, leading us past Clyde's and towards the dining hall. Fortunately, he didn't protest in any way. I knew Tris was working this morning, and I knew he had nothing readily planned until word came from Eric or Max, so coming with me was a much better option than heading back to his desk.

Four had been quiet since we stepped back inside Dauntless. He had only raised an eyebrow once, when we passed the tables normally filled with noisy members. He'd been completely silently during our walk together, following along on blind faith as we passed member after member on our journey through the kitchen doors.

Until now.

"So, do all leaders have access to the kitchens at all times?"

Four looks up from the ice cream that he's barely been eating. He is leaning against the counter, and instead of eating the dessert I'd brought us here for, he seems to be trying to destroy it over and over again. I had taken a seat atop of Quinten's pristinely shiny metal counter after serving the both of us an abnormal amount of the sugary dessert.

"Honestly, I have no idea. Eric must have skipped that section of my training so he could have all the ice cream for himself," I tell him jokingly. "But one day, I hung out with Quinten for hours so I could take a break from Eric observing everything I was doing, and he said I could come down here whenever I wanted. And I wanted to come down here now."

Four quirks an eyebrow at me.

It was strangely true. During my return to active duty, I'd come down here under the guise of needing a signature from him, then I'd stayed far longer than necessary. Quinten may not have known that I was trying to avoid my husband's overly intense scrutiny while I did things like walk and breathe, but he offered to let me hang out whenever I wanted. Maybe Eric had suggested to him that I learn to cook, or maybe Quinten just got bored with keeping his kitchen spotless and wanted some company other than the cafeteria workers.

Whatever the case may have been, I was taking him up on it now and attempting to cheer my friend up. It didn't matter that it was barely ten in the morning and we'd just watched Eric escort Evelyn to her trial. It mattered that he didn't feel entirely alone right now, especially when, despite all its activity, Dauntless was feeling strangely empty.

"The perks of this job just keep on coming," Four comments dryly, continuing to stir the ice cream around, the sound of the clinking echoing in the empty kitchen. The kitchen was still nearly deserted, but I didn't think anyone would mind us being in here. Most of them had joined in watching the morbid parade of leaders and Evelyn, and even Quinten hadn't reappeared yet to prep for the lunch rush.

"I bet you would have taken the job sooner if you knew this was one of them," I joke, and he manages to crack a small smile.

"Tris still says it's the best thing I've ever done. I'm not so sure about that," he mutters, and I shake my head.

"I'm sorry she's working right now." I take another bite, knowing full well that Tris had zero interest in watching Four's mother be taken away. The grim reality of the situation is that she has a job to do in Dauntless, and she is depended upon just like any other member. She is more than likely monitoring the trucks on the cameras, making sure there is no sort of attack on them, but I know she would rather be with Four than working.

"And I'm really sorry about your mom," I continue on, and his head jerks up. "I was hoping things would have gone differently. I was expecting her to be sorry, especially when she saw you. But even then, she wasn't."

Four lets out a sharp exhale, setting his ice cream down on the counter beside him.

"I knew she wouldn't be. It's embarrassing to say I was hoping for the same thing, but I should have known better. I don't know why I was thinking otherwise."

"Because she's your mom. And you wanted her to be the person you remember, not whatever that was down there," I tell him, my heart sinking just a little bit further as we lapse into silence. I eat another bite of my chocolate ice cream and Four stares off somewhere in the distance. There's a sudden burst of voices as a few members walk past the kitchens, and Four turns to face me.

"Did you really think she'd be sorry?" he asks me curiously, and I blink at him. "Did you really think she'd tell you 'oh Everly, I'm so sorry I had you kidnapped'? Did you actually think she'd confess to her mistakes?"

It has rarely happened since I've come to Dauntless, but I suddenly feel every ounce like someone from Amity, like someone wishing peace and harmony from everyone. My cheeks flush when I realize he thinks I went in thinking it would be rainbows and butterflies and she'd weep with the heavy understanding of it all.

The deepest part of me had not expected her to suddenly confess she was a rotten person, but I had been hoping she'd at least give me a reason to be able to forgive her. It was selfish on my part, sure. But I'd been hoping to find the best in her, believing it to be in there somewhere.

But it never happened.

So I'd made the decision to forgive her on my own. I could move on whether she cared or not. But now, sitting here with Four, I feel like maybe I'm the one who made a mistake by going to see her. Maybe I should have left it all alone and just gone to bed and pretended she hadn't been brought in and hadn't continued to work on her shitty agenda.

But that wasn't me. I wasn't going to sit by passively and let her get the best of me. She'd occupied enough of my free time, months of my life that I'd never get back, and I'd wanted closure just as anyone would. If anyone could understand it, I know it would be Four.

So I pull my shoulders back and I stare right at him.

"I was hoping she was a better person than she is. I needed to see if for myself. I wanted her to apologize, but I'm okay that she didn't. It just makes it easier to forget about her. I can move on now, the same way you can."

I set my ice cream down and Four looks down at the floor. He contemplates what I said, and I can tell that this won't be something that goes away overnight, nor should it.

"You know," he starts out, pausing to kick at some imaginary speck of dust of the floor. "She mentioned you to me once. She had heard that you married Eric, and she started asking about who you were. I told her to leave you alone. I tried to convince her you weren't of any importance to him."

I stare as he stops and looks anywhere but at me.

"Part of me wanted to help her because she was my mother. I thought I owed her some loyalty, so I felt like I was doing something dishonest by telling her to stay away from you. I figured she was probably up to no good, but I never thought she was actually planning to have you abducted. Even then, she still had a way of making it seem like I was the one betraying her." He stops to swallow, and when he looks up, he has a different look to him.

"When you came back, you forgave me without question. You didn't hold anything against me, and you never once made me feel like it was my fault. Eric did, but not you. You showed me that it was okay to forgive someone without any expectations."

I shake my head at him. "I think, somewhere in me, I expected her to apologize. And I wanted that apology. I wanted her to be sorry for everyone she'd hurt. And I didn't get that, and that's okay. But you were different. You didn't owe me an apology because you didn't do anything."

"But you didn't have to forgive her. You even said that to her. You looked right at the person who had the worst intentions for you, and you told her you were okay with it. That you understood. How?" His deep blue eyes lock on mine for a second, then he looks away.

"It's what's right," I tell him, looking down to stare at the drips of ice cream melting onto the floor beside Four. "I wanted to be rid of my feelings towards her, and letting it all go felt like the best way to handle it."

"I think so, too," he finally answers, and just like that he seems to cheer up the tiniest bit. "Thanks for going with me to talk to her. Thanks for saying everything you said to her."

"She needed to hear it," I raise my head to smile up at him, and this time, he smiles back.

"Did you ever figure out how Eric ended up with you? I still wonder from time to time."

His words make me grin, remembering the numerous times he'd questioned my relationship with Eric.

"I'll ask him," I laugh, carefully hopping down off the counter, and I collect his bowl of ice cream soup along with my own, confirming that he's done with it. I wash them off quickly, then leave a quick note for Quinten to thank him for the ice cream and to tell him I'll come by later.

"Forget about her. You have better things to focus on now. She isn't our problem anymore."

I set my note on the counter and I turn to face him. He looks better than before, his eyes no longer downcast and dark, his expression no longer so stoic.

"You ready?" I ask, and he nods.

"Thank you again. That was far better than going to sit in my office and wait," he tells me as we exit the kitchens, turning off the lights behind us and walking out of the cafeteria together. I can only hope that he'll soon get the closure he needs, and he'll allow himself to heal from her. He seems better now, the sugary distraction working to temporarily make him forget what happened this morning.

"Do you need to head upstairs?" he asks, and we make it to the end of the cafeteria before I hear the commotion, a loud voice yelling out my name, somehow managing to be even louder than anyone I'd ever heard in Dauntless.

The last person I'd ever expect to see here.

"Hey, Squirt!"


	59. Ding Dong, The Witch is Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to give a quick thanks to everyone who patiently waited for this chapter. For those who have been following this story for a while, I know the wait felt like forever and I'm sorry! For those of you who just started following the story, and there are a TON of new followers, welcome aboard and you lucked out lol. 
> 
> Major thanks to BK2U for editing this monstrous chapter! I'm glad that you and your family are okay! You edited this far more quickly than I could have asked or expected considering you're only repaid with my hilarious messages. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> Thank you for those who have continued to follow and review the story!

One time, Forrest told me that I couldn't beat him in a race.

I was maybe fourteen when he dared me to try and beat him and a few of his close friends. Usually, I had little interest in what my brother said or did. He was older than me by more than a few years, and he spent all of his free time with a group of guys that I had deemed utterly annoying. They seemed to hang around him all hours of the day, always at our house, eating our food and taking up what little free space we had.

I seemed to run into them far more often than I liked. I could tell it bugged Forrest to no end, for they were always thrilled to see me, grinning widely and nudging each other as Forrest rolled his eyes. He and I got along just fine when they weren't around, so I chalked it up to them being stupid and feeling superior since they were older, thinking I was nothing more than the kid sister who wasn't doing what she was supposed to be doing.

They found us on this one particular day, which was burning hot. They gleefully busted Sofia, Courtney and me screwing around, lazing in the sun at the edge of the lake instead of helping in the daycare like we were supposed to. They laughed at our excuse that the daycare center was overstaffed for once, and they continued to stand there while we tried to ignore them. It only took a few minutes for me to have my fill of them, especially since they were supposed to be working as well.

"She won't race us. Everly's too busy tanning today," one snickered.

I rolled my eyes at Courtney and turned over onto my stomach to glare at them. For what seemed like ages, they stood near the water's edge, making dumb comments at me until I took the bait, eventually prying myself away from the cool lake.

"This'll be easy," Jake taunted, making me temporarily dislike the lone friend of Forrest's whom I'd found to be somewhat tolerable.

I waved off all their words, wondering if they knew I'd spent many nights running up and down the fields with my friends. Sofia and Courtney found it to be just a game, usually one of them bowing out halfway, but I didn't. I'd long ago made up my mind that I wasn't staying here. I didn't plan on sticking around once I got the chance to choose my own faction, and I knew I couldn't wander into another faction as an Amity weakling. I'd need to be faster than the others who'd vie against me, and smarter than them as well.

I also knew I could beat Forrest and his dumb tagalongs with my eyes closed.

So, I pulled my hair up in a bun, told Forrest that if I beat him he had to take my shift at the daycare center for the next week, and smirked when he stupidly shook on it.

Fifteen minutes later, I won. I easily crossed over what we had agreed would be the finish line, and gracefully stepped into the woods without ever looking back. I can still remember the shock on Forrest's face when he realized I was faster than him, the way he yanked me aside on the walk back to ask me if this was where I'd been going at night. I felt a bit guilty telling him why I wanted to leave Amity, because I knew he was happy here. I felt like maybe I should be, too, like I was some sort of traitor for not loving our home the way he did.

Except I knew I'd never make it were I to stay here, and that was why I'd started running.

I only told him the reason after his friends were far enough ahead, trying to laugh off their embarrassment, and it was then that he promised to help me make it into Dauntless. He asked me why there, why not maybe Candor, then teasingly made a joke about my witty remarks and inability to keep quiet. He offered up Erudite, then smacked me and told me I was too selfish to go to Abnegation.

But, I didn't want to go to Candor. I didn't even know what they did in Candor other than sit around and argue with each other, trying to prove who was in the right. I'd never desired to spend my days in an Erudite lab, and I certainly didn't want to spend my days feeding the factionless and pretending a life in drab colors would be okay with me.

So, I didn't really answer Forrest.

Instead, I asked him if he'd ever thought about joining Dauntless. He'd always tried to protect our family since our dad seemed to turn a blind eye to anything that didn't fit into the Amity lifestyle, and protecting the city wouldn't be that much of a stretch. But he shook his head no, shoving sweaty hair out of his eyes and guiding me back towards the lake.

"The thought has never crossed my mind. I know where it is, but I've never wanted to go inside. Seems like a long shot for anyone to make it who wasn't born there."

I still remember that day, and the way he smiled down at me with such compassion. I couldn't help but wonder if he was lying through his teeth.

Forrest helped me up until the very day I left, somehow knowing an awful lot about what I should do. Each day, he pushed me further and further until I was convinced that my brother might have made it in Dauntless after all.

 

 

I spot him as soon his booming voice echoes off the walls of the dining hall, so loudly that I would bet the entire faction can hear him.

"Hey, Squirt! Over here!" My brother continues to shout as though I haven't heard him or can't see him bouncing past the empty tables, his bright smile plastered on his face.

"Squirt?" Four mutters from beside me. "You know him? And you invited him here?"

I can't help but smile.

From a distance, Forrest's outfit is comical against the dark room and rocky walls. His bright red shirt is unbuttoned more than actually buttoned, his pants are rolled up and cuffed at two mismatched lengths, and his hair, while cut in a trendier style than most in Amity, is still an unbrushed mess. He looks like he just strolled off the farm and walked right through our gates.

"That's my brother! And Squirt is a terrible nickname that he gave me when we were little," I answer, forgetting all about the looming security threats, about passcodes and security details, and mostly, that my brother is calling me by some wretched childhood name.

Forrest looks so proud to be here, though he still manages to maintain a cool exterior as he glances around, taking in the sights. He's clearly forgotten his declaration that he never wanted to come here, and I know he's memorizing every detail to share with Willow when he returns home.

"Hey, kid. This place is really something else. How have you not fallen off one of the walkways yet?"

He greets me gleefully, pulling me towards him. I'm thrown off, even though I should have expected his hug. I can't help but lean into him when he carefully crushes me against him, squeezing me just a bit too tightly before letting go.

"Hi, Forrest."

He turns towards his next victim, but he doesn't wait for Four to react. He lunges for him, ready to hug him as well. Forrest doesn't quite pick up on Four's discomfort, not even when Four awkwardly pats his shoulder and steps away as quickly as possible.

"Uhh, it's nice to meet you," Four answers, and I try not to laugh at the look on his face.

"Forrest, this is Four. Four, this is my older brother, Forrest, and I have no idea why he's here." I pause, smiling even more widely when Forrest mockingly bows at my formal introduction. "But, it's good to see him."

"It's good to see you, too. You look great. Pregnant as ever. I thought maybe Mom was lying since you didn't really look pregnant the last time I saw you." Forrest is still looking around, and he pushes the longest piece of his hair back into a state of disarray. "I do think maybe she's getting a little greedy. One grandchild should be good enough for her."

"Forrest! Woody will be thrilled to have a cousin." I shove his shoulder and he laughs. "But for real, what are you doing here? How did you even get in here?"

"Bribed the guards." He winks, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Four doesn't find him funny at all.

"Actually, I have some things I needed to drop off, so I tagged along with your local deliverymen. You know us Amity, just bringing you guys some food and all. Figured you didn't want to starve, especially not now," he teases, and I can't help but giggle a bit.

"Thanks for looking out for us. I thought I would never see the day where you'd pick a real job," I tease, but I can tell he's only half listening; he's turned his attention upwards, squinting up at the ceiling.

"Hell, no. You think I'd want to be stuck with that routine? I just came along with Grant and Lars. They said no one would notice. I wanted to bring something for you and Eric, and I couldn't trust them not to break it. I have some stuff from Mom for you as well."

"What did you bring us?" I ask him curiously.

"Well…I know my brother-in-law really liked the beer I made, so I whipped up a new batch and I thought I'd drop some off personally. I was hoping he'd be here, but the guys at the gate said he was gone for the day. Thought maybe we could talk about his impressions of it." Forrest gestures up towards the ceiling. "You guys ever think about getting better lighting? It's awfully dark in here. Maybe something solar-powered. I was thinking about suggesting to Johanna that we—"

"Wait, your brother-in-law?" I'd forgotten Four was standing beside me, but he is, and with a strange look on his face. He looks disturbed, grimacing at something Forrest said. "You consider Eric to be your…"

"Well, yeah, I mean, I know most families don't keep track of stuff like that once you leave your home faction. But we do. After marrying Everly, he's now part of the family. I'm pretty sure Mom added his name to the family tree in the living room."

"She did?" I ask, but I'm cut off by Four.

"Eric Coulter, proud member of Amity. That has a nice ring to it," Four remarks dryly, cocking an eyebrow at me. He looks highly entertained knowing that Eric's name is written down in Amity, and better yet, as part of the Carlen family. "I'm sure Eric would be honored to hear that."

"He'd be fine with it," I tell Forrest, not wanting to hurt his feelings. I can tell by the look on his face that he's starting to feel a little insulted by Four. Most people are charmed by Forrest, and it's rare that someone doesn't love him the minute they meet him. "You know what, I'm not sure when Eric will be back, but I'm hoping it'll be by this afternoon."

"Hopefully, I'll still be here then. I have some time," Forrest announces, and he locks eyes with Four for a long time in some sort of bizarre staring contest. Four blinks at him, as though he isn't sure Forrest is real, or maybe just wondering who this person is that really wants to hang out with Eric.

"I thought we could hang out for a bit. I mean, he looked like he had a blast at the last dinner. And he liked my beer," Forrest reminds me, and I nod my head at him. "I think he's grown to appreciate the things that come from Amity."

"Oh, he definitely likes things that come from Amity," Four announces, and this time I shoot him a dirty look. "I'm starting to see that he really likes them. You should ask him how many rules he broke in regards to Amity."

"Four," I say his name loudly, and he holds both his hands up.

"You have four rules about Amity? What sort of rules do you have?" Forrest's interest is piqued, and I take the opportunity to elbow Four.

"None. But you know what, I think that's enough introductions. Weren't you going to see Tris? She's probably wondering how you're doing." I try to change the subject, but Four doesn't take the hint. He pretends to be thinking, then shakes his head.

"I should," he agrees, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You know, Everly, you really should visit more," Forrest suggests helpfully. "Mom would love that. And Zander's still asking about Eric. He's hoping that Eric will let him drive the truck next time."

"Zander? Who's Zander, and how old is he?" Four asks, and I realize I'm losing control of this situation with every passing second. Four has no clue about my family back home, at least not to the extent of knowing that my little brother idolizes Four's worst enemy. I'd thought they'd made progress, but clearly not as much as I'd hoped. Right now, this conversation is a goldmine of entertainment for Four, considering it's at Eric's expense.

"He's…old enough," I try to say, but Forrest interrupts.

"He might be little, but he's Eric's biggest fan. Loves him. Said he's gonna come visit him soon and stay for dinner. Even drew him a picture of the two of them together. I think they're supposed to be eating noodles, but he also gave Eric a knife and a sword. At least we think it's a knife. Don't really know. There was a lot of scribbling. He said the red parts are blood."

"Do you have this picture with you?" Four asks, his smirk widening with every new tidbit of information.

I close my eyes and count to three, swallowing heavily.

"No, he doesn't. Zander is my youngest brother. He really likes trucks, and he saw Eric driving one of the trucks. So therefore, he really likes Eric. You know what, never mind." I stop, realizing I'm trying to justify why a small child in Amity would like Eric. I glare at him, but Four looks far too entertained to notice.

Four finally smiles, really smiles, for the first time since his mother was brought to Dauntless.

"Tell Eric I definitely agree that he should let Zander drive the trucks. Sounds like a good time. Totally safe."

"I agree. I was starting to think you were no fun, man," Forrest declares enthusiastically, and I shake my head.

"It's settled, then. Eric will let Zander drive next time he visits," Four declares, then he frowns, looking at Forrest again. "And you really brought him beer? Why? We have plenty here. Which I believe Amity already supplies."

"Oh, we do." Forrest nods but he looks at me. "But, I make my own beer. And Eric tried it out last time he visited and he loved it. So, I wanted to bring him some more."

"Interesting." Four now sounds suspicious and uptight, clearly unimpressed by Forrest's gift. "Is there something special about this beer compared to the beer normally sent here?"

Forrest stays silent for a moment, but he looks at me with a spark of mischief in his eye, and I suddenly fear whatever it is that he's made for Eric to drink.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He grins, winking at me. "But I brought it here to celebrate. He's about to be a father, and no better way to celebrate than with his very own beer, brewed just for him. Plus, we also brought you guys some baby clothes. Mom packaged up some stuff for Everly, and we boxed up some clothes that Woody has outgrown. I thought maybe you'd want them."

He looks a little uncomfortable as he says the last part, as though maybe I'll laugh in his face for daring to suggest that I would ever want his child's hand-me-downs. In Amity, it isn't unusual at all for clothing to be recycled as much as possible. No one really wants to spend their days sewing brand new outfits out of scarce fabric, so it's worth the effort to hem and mend things as needed. I'd spent my own adolescence in borrowed sundresses and gifted skirts. It hadn't bothered me one bit, though I'm sure Eric wouldn't be too keen on the idea. I imagine he wore only the finest and newest clothing, for Blythe would have never let her son appear unkempt. A borrowed shirt would have probably horrified her, and replacing a button might have caused her mental distress.

"Of course we'll take them," I reassure him, and his face lights up. "Do you want me to give you a tour while you're here? When we're done, we can have lunch if your friends aren't ready to go home yet."

Forrest looks utterly delighted. "I'd love that. I told Lars and Grant I'd be a bit. They said the unloading takes a minute anyway." He stops, then looks over at Four and I can tell he's still trying hard to be polite. "You, uh, you coming with us?"

Four shakes his head. "Thank you, but no. I'm gonna stop by and see Tris. Then I should head into the office and make sure I didn't miss anything."

"Sounds good," I tell him, and he nods.

"It was nice to meet you, Forrest. Everly, thanks for this morning. I, uh, hope Eric enjoys his beer."

"Thanks, Four."

He waves us off before heading towards the exit. He looks back, then looks back at us once more before turning the corner.

"What an odd guy. He seems a little too serious for around here. Aren't you guys all about excitement and adventure? Maybe he could use a beer to loosen up a bit." Forrest nudges me, craning his head to the side to see where Four went.

I loop my arm through his, fully prepared to take him somewhere more exciting than the dining hall, and shake my head at the idea of Four, Forrest and Eric sitting down to have a drink together.

"Forrest, you have no idea how much he could use a beer. Just not yours."

 

 

"What does this button do?"

Forrest asks Tris questions with an intense look on his face as he stares up at the wall of monitors. Each one blinks as the screen flashes to a new image, some with an annoying one-second delay. They are dizzying when you step back to look at them, especially the ones that move constantly.

"That one changes a specific camera. You can select any camera in any faction. It's how we monitor things like factionless riots, or people who venture where they aren't supposed to be. We also monitor security patrols and routes. We often spot things they might not because we see them from a different vantage point."

"Okay, show me…the Amity lakes!" Forrest calls out dramatically.

Tris cracks up a bit before she shows him how to press the button, and the screen changes to a vast field at the end of Amity before panning to the lake. Forrest looks impressed, his eyes widening in delight when she zooms in on it. There are a few small children splashing around at the edge, and we watch as a mother appears beside them, smiling as she herds them towards the pathway.

"Show me…the barn!"

"Are you going to ask me to show you everything in Amity? Don't you live there?" Tris jokes, and I can hear Forrest laugh as he asks to see his own house.

Beside them, I lean back in the desk chair, taking a long sip of the iced coffee I grabbed after leaving the dining hall.

True to my word, I had taken Forrest on a leisurely tour through Dauntless. I'd happily pointed out all the places that had become home to me. He'd been fascinated by the tattoo shops, skittish when we walked by the salon and spotted a gaggle of stylists with multicolored hair milling around, and suspicious of the elevators. He'd enjoyed peeking into Clyde's, perking up when I said we could eat lunch there if he had time, and he'd been impressed when I scanned my keycard to open up the doors to the control room. Kacie had smiled at us when we walked in, and luckily for us, she was busy enough that she hadn't even come over to ask why Forrest was here.

"What about that one over there?"

"That one calls the patrol squads. We can send them messages or radio them. Whichever is faster or more necessary." Tris answers, pushing the button. A small chat box appears, and she types in a question to one of Karl's patrolmen. He responds almost instantly, confirming his intended destination.

"Cool."

I check my phone while Tris shows him a few other tricks. Four hadn't stopped by the control room as yet, but a message had been sent to both of us to confirm that everyone had made it to Candor without incident. Eric's last message, sent only to me, said they were about to begin questioning Evelyn and that he'd call me as soon as he could.

I typed back quickly, telling him I'd keep my phone nearby.

Forrest's arrival in Dauntless has been a blessing. Not only am I thrilled to see my brother, but his presence provides a major distraction on a day when I need one. Normally, I'd be able to slip away and hang out with Tris, or if I was feeling lucky, spend the morning with Christina. But today, everyone is waiting for word from the leaders, and knowing what's happening has left them all sort of edgy. It doesn't help that I keep glancing at my phone every few seconds, making it seem like the minutes are dragging by.

I stare at my shoes as I wonder if Eric has read my text, half listening to Forrest ask Tris if he can send a message telling the guard to find his friends, when my phone beeps again. I open it up immediately, smiling as soon as I read it.

_I'll see you soon, Amity._

It comes unprompted, meaning that Eric is sitting face to face with the woman who'd kidnapped me, dealing with some sort of unexpected emotional reaction to whatever she's saying. He hadn't handled my absence very well, and now she's right in front of him and he can't even kill her.

At least not yet.

"Everly, do you know how to work in here?"

Forrest interrupts my staring at my phone, and I look up in surprise.

"Yeah. I was trained how to do almost everything in here," I answer, and behind him, Tris smiles at me. "I liked it, but I wouldn't want to do it every day. I think it would give me a headache."

"It can," Tris answers, and she moves her chair back to stand up and stretch. "It makes me nauseous if I stare at the moving screens for too long. And Kacie can be a real peach to be around sometimes. She's behaving today since Everly is in here and she knows Everly won't put up with her shit."

Forrest leans back in the chair, balancing his feet up near the keyboards, and surveys the room. When his eyes land on Kacie staring at him, he studies her for a moment before looking back at Tris.

"I see," Forrest tells her, and he furrows his brows together like he's deep in thought. "Do you guys ever go outside? Or are you stuck in here all day?

"I'm in here for usually eight to ten hours a shift. Everly escapes outside when she can," Tris snickers at me. "And speaking of escaping, I'm going to meet Four for lunch. Would you two like to join us?"

While her offer is kind, Forrest cocks an eyebrow at me, and I can tell by his expression that dining with Four is the last thing he'd like to do. He looks at me pointedly, going as far to mouth the word 'no' while Tris' head is turned. So, I politely decline her invitation, explaining Forrest doesn't have a lot of time here and I want to show him a few more things before he has to leave.

"I'm sure I'll see you later on," I tell her. "I'll come by if I hear anything from Eric. "

"Please. You'll let me know if you hear anything before Four does?" Tris sounds hopeful, and I easily agree. The decision isn't something I'd keep from her, and I'm hoping it arrives sooner than later.

"As soon as I hear from Eric. I promise." I give her my word.

Forrest stands up from the bank of computers, thanking Tris for taking time out of her day to show him how they work. I swear she looks amused as she responds to him, and I roll my eyes at his charming ways. He winks at me, keeping close beside me as the three of us walk out together under the watchful stare of Kacie.

For once, she doesn't look nosy or irritated. She looks strange, almost a little loopy as she smiles brightly, her eyes glued to my brother.

 

 

"Do you think Eric will be back soon?"

Forrest asks me about Eric as he takes a seat at our dining room table, reclining back to look around. He'd grown antsy towards the latter part of my tour, scoffing at the infirmary and Molly waving from behind the desk. He did perk up when he saw I had my own office, though I'm sure it was boring to him. Forrest hates confined spaces, and an underground office certainly isn't any dream of his. He wandered around, touching things on my desk, pausing to examine the lone email I'd printed and left out.

We briefly stopped by Eric's office, which was clearly far more interesting than mine, and I forced him to leave before he could go through Eric's desk drawers. He didn't appreciate my hurrying him at all, but he became more enthused when I said we were going to the apartment. I knew he wanted to see where I lived, and though I didn't pick out most of the décor, it was easy to tell that Eric and I share the space.

Glancing around now, I wonder what Forrest thinks of it.

He and Willow have a home, one that's surprisingly large for them. He runs his business out of it, and therefore no one questions why he needs all that space when it's just the three of them. I know it has been decorated much like every other home in Amity: lots of wood, lots of light from large windows, sun-drenched porches and worn furniture, and gardens often overflowing with flowers and vegetables.

While our apartment is large, it looks nothing like the ramshackle homes in Amity.

I follow Forrest's gaze to the blanket on the couch — one that Eric left out for the times I would curl up beside him — to Eric's laptop and my books on the coffee table. Eric's living room still holds the books I'd borrowed to read at night beside him, their presence seeming less Dauntless than ever. I know that if Forrest were to glance into the kitchen, he'd find two coffee mugs in the kitchen sink from this morning, a few of Eric's shirts neatly folded on the counter, and two of my dresses that had been neatly pressed by Eric's housekeeper.

"This is, uh, it's nice. Very…clean."

Forrest takes it all in, absorbing every single detail of the apartment. I watch him stare at the rich-looking furniture, the bright and empty spaces, and the lack of anything that announces there will eventually be a baby living here. It's nothing like a family home in Amity — there's no warm wood to give a cozy, homey feeling, instead there's only a jarringly cold rock wall and a pristine kitchen. There are no toys scattered around, no high chairs or bottles, only Eric's stuffed dog that had been moved onto the couch. I frown at it when I realize it wasn't there this morning.

"Thanks. And I'm sorry you're missing Eric. He's…he's in a meeting in another faction. I'm not sure when he'll be back."

I sound a bit wistful, standing in the kitchen and unpacking the lunch I ordered for us. We decided to skip Clyde's with the promise that he'd be able to come back and eat there when Eric was home, and instead we took our food back to the apartment to eat. It's much easier than explaining to every single member who might look our way why my brother is here. I don't even want to know where his friends went, and sitting down to eat with three members of the Amity faction would definitely earn me a few stares, especially right now.

"Everly, I hate to ask you this, but are you alone a lot? Will you be alone at a lot? After the baby…" He pauses, his voice taking on a strangely sharp tone, one highly unusual for someone from Amity. He locks eyes with me and his stare is serious. "Eric isn't going to—"

"No." I cut him off, already know where this is heading. "He doesn't leave me alone, and he won't. I don't think Eric will want to let anyone within thirty feet of his baby. And he's usually home with me, and we work in the same office. This is just a rare situation that he's gone. But...even if he were to be gone, I'm okay. I promise."

He smiles, though I can tell he's not entirely convinced.

"Why would you think that he'd leave me here all alone? Did someone tell you that?" I put my hands on my hips, my unpacking coming to a halt, as a thought crosses my mind. "Did Mom tell you that? Because the last time I saw Mom, I had left Eric alone and had gone to see her!"

He winces at my words, giving away the truth.

"Mom isn't even here, Forrest! She has no clue what's going on. I don't need you coming to Dauntless to check up on me under the guise of bringing terrible beer to Eric! I thought you came to visit me!"

He winces again, probably more at the insult to his prized drinks that he brought, but there's still a flash of guilt across his face.

"I did come to visit you!" he protests, and I glare at him. "Mom just mentioned that Eric's position in Dauntless means that he'll be busy a lot. I mean, we all know he works hard, and we know he's one of the leaders. I just didn't want to find out that my sister was home all alone with the baby. That's all. You've been alone all day, and I didn't even mean to stay so long."

"Don't you leave Willow alone with your baby all day? While you make beer? Or do you stay by her side every second of the day?" I ask dryly.

He shrugs, and I resist the urge to throw a fork at his head.

"That's…that's different. Amity is…it's safer there."

"It's safe here. Probably safer than Amity," I retort, and I have to remind myself that this is my brother, and it's only natural that he feels protective over me. He hadn't liked Landon at all, though he'd managed to mostly keep his mouth shut about him.

"Yeah, let me know how safe you think it is when your baby falls down that waterfall I saw." Forrest looks red now, not used to being angry at someone. "I'm just looking out for you. You're my little sister. And you live… here. When was the last time someone even checked the safety regulations on those elevators?"

"Forrest," I say his name warningly, and he throws his hands up.

"And your friend, Eleventy-Nine, he sucks."

"Four. His name is Four," I tell him, but I can't help but laugh. "And he gets a pass since he's having a really shitty day. I know he seemed a little weird, but there's a lot of security issues going on right now and he's got a lot on his mind. It was probably a little strange to see you come strolling in here at the exact moment that you did."

"That's exactly my point, Squirt. I just don't want you stuck here, all alone, at risk of being murdered. Babies are a lot of work. It'll be hard for you to sprint away while holding one. Are you really okay with being the sole parent while Eric is out there doing whatever it is that he does?" Forrest looks at me as though he's made some brilliant point, and he crosses his arms over his chest triumphantly.

"First of all, if anyone would be fine being left alone with a baby, it would be me. Do you not remember how you skipped out on babysitting our siblings since you were always off with your friends? You never even held a baby until Woody. And if I were alone, there would be a damned good reason for it. Do you really think I'd let Eric get away with something like that? I'm safer here than anywhere, and you know it."

I stare at him, not really mad, but still feeling a bit defensive. This isn't really like me, but I chalk it up to the baby kicking at my ribs as a reminder that it's lunch time, the looming headache from the stress of not knowing what's going on, and the sucky feeling that Eric hasn't replied to my message yet. I know that Forrest is merely concerned, but it still bothers me that once again, someone feels the need to question what I'm doing. I must look pissed off, because Forrest suddenly relents.

"Whoa, Everly." He pauses. "Calm down. I didn't mean anything by it. I've seen you and Eric. I know he'd never dump the kid on you and split. I just wanted to make sure you were good. Mom just mentioned she was worried and it got me thinking…"

"Now that's a dangerous pastime," I retort, and he rolls eyes.

"I have faith in you, Squirt. I always did. I never would have encouraged you to leave Amity if I didn't." He looks at me, and gone is the guilt-stricken expression. "Eric promised me he'd take care of you. I just got a little worried when I got here and he wasn't here. At all. It's been hours, and…"

"He's at a trial. He said it could take a while," I tell him flatly, and he looks down at the table. "He had to be there while they interrogate Evelyn."

"That's the lady, right? They finally got her?"

Forrest looks up at me, and I suddenly feel bad for being mad at him as I slowly nod my head. He looks frustrated; his shoulders are scrunched up, and he sweeps invisible dust off the table. "She's the one that had you taken back to us, but you couldn't remember anything except that you hated Amity more than anything in the world?"

"Yeah, they got her. She's on trial today. For a lot of things." I bite my lip, looking down as the baby kicks again. I force myself to continue plating our lunch, despite the sudden, overwhelming urge to break something. Forrest stays silent as I add salad to his plate, then neatly add the dressing to it.

"I'd kill her, too, you know. If I could."

I look up at him, nearly dropping the container of dressing. "You'd kill her? Really?"

Despite his words, Forrest, the king of trapping animals and master brew wizard, is truly harmless. Even if Eric had decided he hated the mere sight of him, or if he had told him to fuck off when Forrest asked if he'd take care of me, Forrest would still want the best for him. He is kind and compassionate, hardly someone who'd be called vicious. He rarely even eats meat. To hear him say he'd kill someone is a little unnerving.

"Yeah, for what she did to you. I mean, I wouldn't want to be the one to kill her. But I want Eric to. I know it's wrong to think like that, but this way you'll be safe. Hopefully, we'll all be safe."

"Me, too."

I walk his plate over to him and take the seat beside him, noticing the way he looks older than I remember. He's no longer just my big brother now, but also a father and husband, and a soon-to-be uncle; I can't help but smile at him.

"Are you worried you aren't safe?" I ask him quietly, hating when he nods his head yes.

"I hear things, Everly. You know that people come and go in Amity. They talk sometimes. I just want Woody," he pauses, looking directly at me, "And Woody's future cousin to grow up and not be afraid to live. Amity teaches forgiveness and peace, but it's hard to always think that way when you see what can happen. Aren't you afraid? That they'll come after you again?"

"Sometimes," I tell him, and he picks up his fork to stab at the salad. "But everyone is. Even the people here. No one is invincible, Forrest. But I know things will be better soon. And if you spend your entire life being afraid, then that's not really living, is it?"

He looks up from his salad and shakes his head.

"I guess not."

 

 

"Wanna race?"

Forrest kicks my foot as we walk down a dimly lit hallway. We're heading back towards the entryway of the compound after finishing our lunch. We used our time to talk for a while, Forrest's worry still all over his face, but it vanished by the time he was done. I wanted to ask him who was still going in and out of Amity, but I forgot when he announced he should try to find his friends.

"Actually, never mind. I don't want Eric after me when I win and he has to come home and suffer through your defeat."

I roll my eyes at him, leading him around to the left of the pathways. He slows down as we near the chasm, taking a moment to stare at the rushing water. I'm sad that he's leaving, but he can't stay forever. He's a little piece of home, one that I didn't know I needed until today.

"You really like it here, where everything is so dark? I mean, you spent a lot of time outdoors in Amity. This seems so…dramatic."

"Dramatic?" I look over at him, noticing that he's now grinning.

"I'm just saying you could use a few more lights down here."

"I'll bring it up in the next meeting. I'll tell them you were concerned." I grin, and he walks over to me, his eyes fixed somewhere above my head.

"Hey, uh, before I leave, I just wanted to say that we're all proud of you, Everly. Everyone in Amity is."

I stare at him, not exactly sure what to say. His words feel much better than his earlier worry, but in my mind, transferring to Dauntless because I wanted to be happy wasn't a heroic act. Everyone should be happy with their lives, not just accept things the way they are because they feel like they have to.

"Forrest," I start, but he interrupts me, shaking his head before I can say anything else.

"I know it didn't seem like it earlier, but I wanted to tell you. You've done more with your life in a few years than some people in Amity have ever done. They're content, but you wanted to be more than content. And you got it." He pauses, and his eyes find the blinking red light of the camera, pointed directly at us. I have to stop myself from waving up at it as I picture Four sitting there, watching. "Just don't forget about us once you have the baby. They're all waiting for you to come by. Mom's neighbors have been asking how you're doing, and even Jake wanted to know."

He smiles at me, and I hate the fact that I feel like crying. Being pregnant is starting to make me feel a little bit all over the place. But I pull myself together, hugging Forrest tightly.

"I will," I promise him. "I'll even bring Eric with me. Maybe Four will want to come with us."

"No, thanks." He grins. "You can leave him here. I don't think anyone could handle the excitement of the both of them in Amity at the same time."

I shake my head and laugh as the two of us resume walking past the loud water, into another dark hallway desperately in need of a few new lanterns.

 

 

I hug him goodbye, not really ready for him to go home.

Lars and Grant both wave at me as they climb into the old Amity truck, yelling for Forrest to hurry the hell up. While I wish he could stay longer, I know he can't miss his ride home, and I have work I should be doing. I feel better when he tells me he'll come back as soon as he can, and I can tell he does, too, especially when I tell him I'll add his name to our security clearance list. After he makes me promise to ask for a keycard with his picture on it, he hugs me goodbye one last time, resting his head on top of mine for just a second.

"I'll see you later, Squirt. Let me know how Eric likes the beer. Maybe you can send a letter, or have Tris send a message or something. And thanks for the tour. Don't forget about the lights."

He lets go of me and heads over to the truck. I watch as he easily hops in the back with another worker I don't know. He waves as they start up the truck, and I reach down for the bag he's given me.

I hold it to my chest, watching them drive away into the sunset until I can't see them anymore.

 

Of course, I have no new messages.

I click on Eric's name, tempted to type something out, but nothing sounds right. Asking how it's going seems dumb, asking if he's having fun is just ridiculous, and asking if Evelyn is dead yet seems a little too eager on my part.

So, I click out of the box, forcing myself to put the phone away as I head back into Dauntless, ignoring the flickering lights and the empty hallways.

 

 

I lose track of time as I hold a tiny onesie up in front of me, the fabric tie-dyed into a pretty swirl of blues and white.

Work held my attention for all of fifteen minutes. With plenty of emails but no verbal confirmation from Eric, there was really nothing I could do. I felt antsy and anxious sitting there, sort of wishing I had gone along just to avoid feeling like this. I gave up a few minutes later; I bid Linda farewell and lugged Forrest's gifts home to open them up.

The first bag contained all sorts of things that were certain to make Eric's skin itchy: bottles of handmade baby lotion, baby soaps, a special powder to wash the baby's clothes, tiny bottles of essentials oils, and an all-natural teething necklace. There was no doubt in my mind that my mother had lovingly gathered all of this together, and had probably made most of it herself.

I didn't shove the stuff away as quickly as I once would have. Instead, I stared at each bottle, reading the uses and the ingredients before neatly setting them down on my nightstand.

I then spent the next half hour pulling clothes out one by one, holding them up before laying them out on our bed. There were tons of Woody's clothes, some barely worn and some more worn than others, and some outfits that appeared to be brand new. I could tell my mother had made some of these because they were softer than the others, warm under my fingers, and they smelled like her house. Beneath them are a pile of shirts that button down, and I blink at a lone red shirt, the color especially close to the shirt Forrest had on today.

His gift suddenly seems overwhelming, especially when I see there aren't just boys' clothes in the bag.

I hold up a pink dress that looks all too familiar. This one is tiny and exceptional soft, decorated with a few ruffles, and I wonder if I had worn this. It makes me smile, because it looks like a smaller version of a dress I still own, now hung up in our closet right beside Eric's dark jackets. I rifle through the bag to find more dresses, some frilly and fancy for Amity, most simple and pretty jewel-colored tones.

I stare at the bed, gazing at Forrest's kind gift.

The clothes sent from Blythe were no sweet gesture. They weren't even purchased by her, but she'd sent them on with the silent demand that they be worn as some warped representation of her. They were stiff and formal, as unpleasant as she was. Eric had never uttered a word about them, and I shoved them away without asking him what to do with them. He probably would have been fine if I had lit them on fire or used them to wipe down the counters.

He'd also never said anything about how he wanted to dress our child, though if I had to guess, I would say he'd probably lean towards the darker colors of our faction.

I try to imagine him holding the baby, dressed in some of these clothes. I pair the red shirt with a tiny pair of shorts, but for some reason I can't picture it. I keep thinking of Eric holding his child close to his chest, the tiny pink dress bright against his black shirt, his sharp smile bright as he looks up at me.

"Everly."

I can almost hear him say my name, his voice warm and low as he rises up to walk over to me. The baby's clothes won't matter by then, he won't care what I dress our child in, after all. Especially not…

"Everly."

This time I actually hear his voice.

I jump, knocking over one of the piles of clothes I made. I wasn't expecting him to actually be here. I turn to find Eric standing behind me, his arms crossed over his chest and his stare glued to his bed. There are clothes strewn all over it, and he frowns slightly at the sight.

"I called you and you didn't answer. I thought maybe something was wrong." He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Eric! I didn't even hear you come in." I look up at him, trying hard to read the look on his face.

After all of our time together, I've grown to be an expert at deciphering his expressions. I can tell the subtle difference between when he's really pissed off or simply a little bit annoyed. But right now, he's thrown me for a loop because he stays silent, his grey eyes stuck on the clothes and his lips pressed together.

"When did you get back?" I ask him, setting the dress down onto the bed. I walk over to him and throw my arms around his neck, happy when he bends his head down and his arms encircle my waist. "I didn't know I missed your call. My phone is in the kitchen."

I had set it down when I got home from work, and forced myself not to repeatedly check it. I was too curious to see what my brother had brought, but now I'm slightly embarrassed at the thought that I'd worried Eric because I was rifling through the clothes.

"Not too long ago. Ten minutes at most. Rylan drove like an asshole to get us home." He rests his head against mine, still holding me against him. He's warm, hot even, still dressed in his stiff uniform. He smells just like he always does, something that doesn't remind me of Dauntless, and he walks us back a step until my legs touch the bed.

"What is all that? Did you order baby clothes from Amity?"

"No, my brother brought them," I answer, and he lifts his head up to look at me. He smiles slightly, his fingers digging into my skin. "You missed Forrest. He stopped by to bring you something. He said he brought beer, but oh shit. I don't know what he did with it."

Eric smirks.

"It's in my office. They left it with the deliveries and wrote my name on it. Someone brought it up. Linda made sure to tell me; she said she saw you together on your tour."

"I wanted to show Forrest around. He never gets to go anywhere fun. And he said he made the beer specifically for you," I tell him, and he raises up an eyebrow. I can tell he's mildly entertained that someone thought highly enough of him to make him a batch of his own beer, but I doubt it's something he'll want to drink. "He was disappointed you weren't here."

"Sorry, I couldn't quite get away." Eric lets go, taking a step back from me. He undoes his jacket and motions towards the bed. "Will you put those away?"

And just like that, my heart sinks.

"Yeah, are you alright? Do you not like them? We don't have to use them. He just...they were Woody's and my brother wanted to pass them on." I feel stupid as I turn back to pick up the clothes. When I look at them all together like this, the bright and colorful fabrics suddenly seem much too unlike Dauntless for Eric to ever approve of them.

I find myself suddenly worried that maybe my mother is right with her concern. Maybe Eric does have too much on his plate, and maybe this will be what pushes him over the edge. Seeing dozens of tiny outfits, all colors that he would rather die than wear, might just be enough to make him start to think differently, that maybe he doesn't want to be around after the baby is born. Maybe he can't run a faction if he has a newborn waiting for him each night. I look over at him, thinking maybe I should ask how the trial went, when he presses his palms to his face, standing totally still for a moment before he takes a step towards the closet.

"It was a long day, Everly."

His answer is short — far shorter than I'd like. He doesn't offer up any more information willingly, and I stand there, internally debating if I should ask him about Evelyn. I glance over at the clock, shocked when I see it's nearly five.

"Are you hungry? We could go eat somewhere. I meant to put them away before you got home. Forrest gave them to me, and I started to think and I realized that we aren't really ready. We don't have anything for the baby. I mean we have these clothes and the ones your mom sent, but that's it. We don't even have a crib. I know we've been really busy, and I don't mean that we need to get everything today, but you seem really upset over the clothes."

I blurt out the last part, and I notice Eric flinches a bit as he hangs up his jacket.

"I'm not," he tells me, still facing the closet. I watch him place his hands behind his head, the muscles in his shoulders tightening as he stands there, memorizing the dark clothes inside. "I don't want to talk about baby clothes right now."

"Eric?" It's my turn to flinch, and I silently curse my sudden inability to leave him alone. After all, I should know when Eric needs space. Maybe after Evelyn's trial isn't the right time to suddenly discuss buying every single item our child needs.

"Not right now. I want us to go celebrate."

"What?"

I freeze in place and he turns to look at me, his dark t-shirt making his skin look extra pale. His hair is slicked back, and this time, he smiles widely at me.

"Evelyn's dead."

 

 

"Did you do it?"

I ask him quietly, pressed up against his side as Jason shoves himself into the seat next to me. He apologizes, then kicks Rylan in an attempt to clear some space for Meghan.

I have to admit that all of this, even Eric's cranky attitude upon returning home, feels like old times again. We came down to Clyde's, my fingers intertwined with his, and were seated in the same booth in which we normally sit. It was clear we were a little late because his friends were already here, mostly in varying states of inebriation, shuffling around to make room for us.

Eric had changed out of his work clothes quickly, swapping his uniform out for the dark, worn-in jeans he rarely wears, and a blacker V-neck than the one he'd had on earlier. He smirked at me the whole walk down here, his dark mood vanishing the closer we got to Clyde's, and I wanted badly to ask him if he'd been the one to execute Evelyn.

I just didn't want to sound a little too enthusiastic about someone's death, so I'd smiled at him and figured I'd hear all about it at dinner.

Once seated, we were joined by Karl, then by Harrison, and eventually Max. It was a different take on our normal group, but it felt completely right to have them sit down with us, gleefully ordering a round of drinks and nachos. It wasn't long before the rest of Dauntless came rushing in, filling in every empty seat and even the standing room at the bar. Our regular waitress dropped off menus, smiling after her routine greeting; then she waited patiently to jot down our orders.

It's hard to make out in the low lighting of Clyde's, but everyone at our table looks much more relaxed, except for Tori. She looks a bit antsy, even more so when Max orders a large shot of their strongest whiskey, then immediately orders another.

"We still have work to do," she hisses, but he ignores her, smiling widely at me and raising his drink glass in the air.

"Alright, everyone, listen up. I'd like to make a toast to all who made this a possibility. We've taken down the largest threat to the factions that we've had in years. May everyone rest easy tonight, may no one spend another second wishing death upon her, and may no one forget to turn in all the required paperwork because Linda will be on my ass for it."

Jason lets out a joyous cheer as everyone clinks their glasses together. I'm the only one drinking something nonalcoholic, but I join them, feeling delighted when Harrison smacks his glass into mine, and Rylan follows suit.

"So, she's really gone?" Meghan is the first one to ask what I'm thinking. She looks at me, then back at Max, then over at Jason. "She's like, dead dead?"

"She couldn't be any deader," Jason tells her. "We made sure of it. She was found guilty, of course, and Eric asked her if she knew she was responsible for the deaths of many of her soldiers, and she had to agree since she couldn't disagree. She didn't leave this Earth without one of her motivational speeches, though. We had to hear one more time about the mistake we were making."

"The only mistake we made was letting her stay alive as long as we did," Rylan adds, his gaze flicking from me to Eric. "It feels good to know she's gone."

"Did you kill her?" I ask Eric again, noticing that no one can really hear me, nor are they paying any attention. They've all turned to greet Charlotte, grinning happily as she takes the seat near the end of the table. Across from me, Rylan finishes his drink, then glances at his phone a few times, impatiently tapping at the screen. I notice Christina isn't here, but I grow distracted when Eric slides his arm around me, pulling me closer against him. He's always had a way of making me feel like it's just him and me, and tonight is no exception.

"You look lovely tonight, Amity."

He says the words teasingly, his eyes dark in the low lighting. His fingers find my side, touching my ribs as he tilts his head down towards mine.

"I'm glad you weren't there," he tells me. "It wasn't very pretty."

He leans in closer until his lips graze my ear. "But you certainly are."

"Eric," I grin at him, enjoying the way his head rests against mine. The two of us sit there, my hand resting on his thigh, his digging into my side until he breaks away to pull his phone out of his pocket. I watch him read the message, and then he slides the phone over to me.

"Read that."

Clyde's is so noisy that I can barely hear him. He looks up for a second as Lucy sets down another round of beers, attempting to balance the tray. I only catch sight of my name on the screen, the words Please tell Everly all I have read before he says the words I've been waiting to hear.

"I shot her."

I completely forget about the message I'm supposed to be reading. I stare up at him, and he stares down at me.

He doesn't blink. He finally smiles somewhat, then tilts his head to the side a bit. "I wanted it to be me. I wanted my face to be the last thing she saw. I wanted her to know that there were consequences for what she'd done. That I personally held her responsible for the worst time of my life. That I'd promised I wouldn't rest until she stopped breathing by my hand."

He pauses, and I realize I'm holding my breath.

"She thought she was doing the right thing: that her actions were nothing more than a part of the war, and that they'd be overlooked in light of her rise to power. She wasn't banking on the fact that she'd ever get caught, and she certainly never thought anyone would hold her accountable for people that she deemed disposable."

"So you really did it," I ask him again, and he nods.

"I told her to be brave." He cocks an eyebrow at me, the piercing rising up as he smiles. "And she laughed."

"Was everyone there?" I ask him, staring directly into his eyes. To anyone else this would be horrifying. His murdering Landon had been startling, but Evelyn's death comes as a sweetly wonderful relief. She's gone now, no longer a dark threat that could keep popping up in my life.

He nods, reaching for his beer. "Yes. They were all there. It wasn't supposed to be me, but she tried to end my life, so I figured I'd return the favor."

"I'm glad she's dead."

I blurt out the words, ignoring the chatter around me. I feel lighter than I have in a long time, almost dizzy, but in the best way possible. Evelyn took her last breath at the hands of Eric. She's no longer walking this Earth with the potential to appear out of nowhere to wreak havoc, no longer plotting and scheming, no longer able to ruin anyone's life.

I normally wouldn't celebrate someone's death, but this is different. After everything she'd done, she deserved to die. I feel strangely free — until Eric starts speaking again.

"There are a few security issues that we'll go over later. Your trips to the factions will be…interesting. Some things came up that we weren't quite expecting."

"What came up? What's going on?" I ask, wondering exactly what they weren't expecting. I try not to let myself grow too worried, because this night should be one for celebrating, and I'll be damned if even in death she ruins it.

Eric toys with his beer glass, and his eyes flash to Rylan. I can tell he's been listening as they exchange a weighted look, one that I can't interpret through the chaos going on around me.

"I'll fill you in later. I don't want you to sit here and worry about it. There's nothing we can do right now." He takes a large swallow, then sets the drink back on the table in front of him. "There are more changes coming, but they're all good. I promise. And Everly…"

I wait patiently, staying still as he reaches for my hand.

"Don't you worry about stuff for the baby. It's coming."

 

 

We celebrate the exact way I would imagine Eric would want to after killing Evelyn.

With me on top of him, my forehead resting against his as I dig my nails into his skin.

Eric and I only stayed at Clyde's through dinner and not a moment longer. I listened while Eric and Max talked quietly amongst themselves, with Tori hanging on their every word. Her concern from earlier became clear when I realized Evelyn's war wasn't entirely over. We might have taken out Evelyn, but there was now the lingering threat of retaliation. Tori pointed this out over and over, until Eric finally snapped at her. He stood his ground, insisting we were fine for the moment, that our soldiers were far better trained and far more ready than Evelyn's could ever be. He reminded her that they'd be dumb to try anything so soon after the execution of their leader. After what seemed likes ages, Tori finally relented, shutting up enough to eat a few onion rings.

I ate my dinner while they agreed that we'd all meet around one o'clock tomorrow. Max wanted to give everyone a break, but I read between the lines; he and Eric had already taken precautions to deal with anything that might arise, and they were confident that we were safe. I was finally able to relax, leaning back into Eric and enjoying my dinner.

I was happy when the conversation veered away from Evelyn, but we didn't stay much longer after it turned to Four and his lack of attendance at the table. One didn't need to be a genius to figure out why he wasn't there to join in the celebration, but his absence was noticeable.

Eric and I finished eating at almost the exact same time. I swear that the moment after I set my fork down, Eric was signing his name on our tab, leaving Lucy a generous amount of points for bringing us a separate check, and we bowed out quietly. We then took the long way home, lazily walking through darkened hallways until we were passing the chasm, hand in hand. Eric was a step ahead of me, my arm extended as I lagged behind, enjoying the sight of him.

For once, Dauntless felt quiet. The hallways were dimly lit and cold, but I grew warm when Eric smirked at me, like I was his initiate all over again. I half expected him to shove me up against the wall, but instead, he pulled me a step closer to him and grasped my face in his hands.

He was never more Eric than in this moment: gleeful from his victory over Evelyn, pleased with our dinner, and smug with what he had planned for us. I gave in easily; I waited patiently while his nose touched mine, then stayed still. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing me while I rose up on my toes, eventually giving in and kissing him first.

There was a long moment where we stayed like this, just he and I, my lips pressed against his. The only thing I could hear was the sound of the water and my heartbeat ringing in my ears. It seemed like everything was amplified, even more so when he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine; I felt like I'd never be able to stop smiling.

"Come on, Amity."

We then went home, both of us slightly damp from the spray of the water, his hand holding onto mine tightly. He wordlessly led us to the kitchen, where he wasted no time in roughly pulling off my shirt. He fumbled with my leggings when they tangled at my ankles, hissing that I should have just worn a damned dress.

His words made me laugh as I kicked the leggings off, then turned back to face him. My hands reached for the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up from the bottom to help him take it off. His eyes darkened when I reached for the zipper on his jeans, his smirk returning when I shoved them down his hips.

It didn't take long for us to be completely undressed. I felt the tiniest speck of hesitation when he pushed me back a step so he could sit down. He was clearly enjoying the show, watching intently while I discarded the bra and panties I had on, his eyes glued to me.

"You look beautiful."

The words weren't spoken romantically at all; they were hissed at me, then once again as he greedily pulled me as close to him as possible. His mouth found my neck, the same spot he'd marked the very first time I sat on his counter, my legs wrapping around his waist in the same manner. I could never have imagined that a few years later, I'd be married to him, pregnant with his child, and living the life I'd dreamt of since I'd learned I could someday leave Amity. It may not have happened the exact way I'd expected, but it had happened.

"You always have. Since the first day I saw you."

He says the words as he digs his nails into my skin, using his knee to nudge my legs apart. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks, but only because his expression when he'd first laid eyes on me had been one of total disgust and definitely not infatuation. I can still remember his sneer at my dress, the way my hair was tangled from leaping off the roof, and how nervous I was as I pretended to be brave in front of him. He had been every ounce the Dauntless soldier that I'd imagined before coming here, and he hadn't looked pleased to discover that I was now his responsibility. It felt like ages ago that I stood there, silently pleading for him to give me a chance.

And he had.

"I'm pretty sure you glared at me the first time we met. In fact, I think you even told Max 'no thanks'. I could have ended up with Four as my trainer."

I'm teasing him, but I lose my train of thought when Eric stands up. I wrap my legs around him as he heads to the bedroom, hissing at me to stop saying Four's name. I try not to laugh as I hold on for dear life as he sits down on the bed. It's clear that Eric isn't about to waste any time. He isn't in the mood to draw this out, and I find myself sharing his impatience. It seems like it's been ages since the last time I wanted him like this, lustfully and feverishly, though really it's only been days.

It makes it all the better when he lies back, and I place one knee on each side of his legs. I tease him for just a minute, enjoying the way he narrows his eyes and his grip on my hips tightens. I rock back and forth, reveling in the feeling of his erection rubbing exactly where I want it, and I smirk when he grunts and jerks his hips up.

"Everly," he growls my name irritably, his eyes fixed on mine. "Get on with it."

I ignore him.

There's something very pleasing about the way he's splayed out beneath me. He's chosen the perfect position for us, since there's no way I'd want to lie on my back, but his clenched jaw tells me he won't stay still for long.

"I think this feels nice," I tell him, smiling as I let my nails scrape up his thighs, and he visibly shivers as his eyes shut. "I like to see you like this. You look all…relaxed."

"Relaxed?" he snaps, sitting up a bit. If it weren't for his grip on me, I'd have probably tumbled off of him. He raises the pierced eyebrow at me, and he looks at me with a dangerously smug expression on his face. "I'll show you relaxed. Just wait until I'm done with you."

I can't help but giggle when he lies back again, putting one hand behind his head and looking up at me. He then gestures, curling his finger at me.

"Everly," he commands, "You can get closer than that. Much closer. Points for creativity, though."

I bend down so I can kiss him, pressing my lips against his as his free hand knots into my hair. It's not long before we are both worked up, my hips pushing towards him in search of any sort of friction. There's a few seconds of him grunting my name, and I have to smile at his frustration. He doesn't like not getting his way. He never has, never will. And after everything he's done, I decide to cave in just a bit.

I meet his stare, keeping my eyes locked on his while he slides inside of me.

I forget everything except for him and me.

Our bedroom is dark and quiet save for the hiss of my name and the groan when I lean back, placing my hands on his thighs. I focus solely on his reaction; the way he sharply sucks the air into his lungs, the way the muscles in his thighs tense up, the way he stares up at me, his expression something beyond lust and want.

He has the same look sometime later when I finally lie down with my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing. One of his hands is heavy in my hair, greedily clutching a fistful as he lazily shifts me closer to him. I smile as my eyes shut, his low voice washing over me as I fall asleep.

"You know, you were far more beautiful than any girl in Dauntless. I thought that from the moment I first saw you." His fingers tighten into my hair and he sighs against me. "Even in that hideous dress."

"You liked it," I mumble, and I hear him snort against me as the two of us drift off to sleep.

 

 

The ultrasound tech smiles at me.

His shaggy blonde hair flops over into his eyes, and his fingers smash furiously at the keyboard in front of him. I watch a smile cross his face as the screen suddenly lights up.

"Um, give me just a second. I need to let Dr. Denten know that I fixed this — she's gonna be so relieved since it's been out of commission for a few days."

I don't recognize him, though to be fair, I'd completely spaced on my last appointment. After spending an entire night wrapped around Eric, then another four nights after that, I'd woken up by myself to a blinking phone and a short message from Arlene. Turns out that while I was busy celebrating Evelyn's death, I'd completely forgotten that I was scheduled for another ultrasound.

I'd called back immediately, using the number Dr. Denten had given me, and apologized profusely. It wasn't like me to forget such an appointment, but she reassured me it was alright. She told me she completely understood, and with the new security policies in place, she hadn't left Erudite since there had been no confirmation of my appointment. She then explained that she personally wouldn't be able to make it, but she'd send instructions to the Dauntless nurses. I'd chosen not to mention this to Eric, and instead I'd cheerfully booked a new appointment.

The nurse today had introduced himself to me, mumbling so quietly that I couldn't really hear him, and informed me he was new to the infirmary and the OB/GYN department. He explained he'd been working at one of the guard posts for the past few years, and that this was one of the only open positions available when he wanted to transfer. To me, that sounded like a pretty strange and drastic career change, especially when he seemed more at home with computers than with patients. I was ready to see the baby, but he seemed completely focused on the monitor in front of him.

I lie there forever while he works, my stomach freezing since he already slathered it with the gel, and I patiently wait for him to finish whatever it is he's doing.

"Sorry, Everly. We'll get going in just a second."

"No problem." I smile, closing my eyes and intending to fully enjoy these free minutes.

Ever since the death of Evelyn, things have been quiet. Almost too quiet, but everyone seems to be taking it all with a grain of salt. It feels icky, like something is looming in the distance, just waiting for us to turn our backs. Travel between factions has been restricted to almost nothing but the utmost necessary trips, and Karl told me it felt weird to be outside with his men. Over bagels and coffee, he explained that the roads were now deserted, and the woods seemed eerie. It didn't help that the air was rapidly cooling, the skies were darkening earlier and earlier, and the wind seemed to be picking up sharply. His men were ready, always on alert, but it felt like they were simply waiting for something to occur.

The bagel had stuck in my throat when I tried to swallow it, and I coughed it up when Rylan slapped my shoulders in greeting, plopping down beside me. I now spent most of my days with him, Eric, and Karl, and I'd found myself a little overwhelmed by the three of them. Jason was out overseeing the men on the fence, a position he'd fought tooth and nail against, but it had to be done and Eric flat out refused. Rylan had begged off, explaining he was up to his eyeballs in a faction-wide security system update, and even though everyone knew Rylan was terrible at it, it had been assigned to him. So, Jason had gone, glaring at everyone and loudly reminding them he'd back.

The first few days were okay, but it left Eric and Rylan lacking a friend; Karl easily filled the space. I was suddenly surrounded by males, their loud selves taking up all my free time. I'd tripped over Rylan in our living room where he was loudly sulking about Christina being mad at him for being mad at her, and I'd sat down for what I thought was a nice dinner with Eric only to find Karl plopping down in the seat beside me, thanking Eric for inviting him before they started discussing some mind-numbing fight that had occurred in the Pit.

I tried to escape a bit. I went into work late, but I'd bumped into both Rylan and Karl on the way to breakfast, and they'd graciously escorted me to the dining hall. I grew suspicious, especially when Rylan actually fetched a plate for me, and Karl grabbed some coffee for me.

This little plan had Eric's name written all over it, in his neat and sly handwriting. I knew what he was doing. He was worried, so he'd stuck his friends on me while he was with Max. It was hard to be mad at any of them, though. Rylan was overly nice, going so far as to cut up my eggs until I'd yanked my plate away from him, and Karl sweetly kept me entertained by telling me that he swore he'd seen Peter fishing in one of the streams. He'd told me Peter was terrible at it, but I couldn't bring myself to find any sort of compassion towards him.

Then Rylan and Karl had both walked me to work.

It should have been a quiet reprieve, but I'd only been sitting there for maybe an hour or so before Rylan stopped by, dropping off a blueberry muffin. Karl then stopped by at eleven, his hands full of cookies and some kind of dessert bar, and he'd grinned when he placed them next to the uneaten muffin.

"Eric thought you might be hungry. Thought I'd bring these by. He's in a meeting until one."

"I know," I answered, staring at the plates in front of me. Linda had come by as well, giving me a list of messages that had nothing to do with me and leaving behind some sort of fruit tray. "Thank you. I, uh, I'll just eat them after my lunch."

"What time are you going to lunch?" he asked me cheerfully, clearly planning to join me. I very slowly reached for the muffin I had no desire to eat. I wondered if Eric had forced them to read some pregnancy book, because they both seemed awfully concerned with what I was eating.

"Now. And then afterward, I have a doctor's appointment. Would you like to accompany me to that?"

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, daring him to agree to come with me. But, my words worked magic. I watched as his nose scrunched up, and he heartily shook his head. "No, thanks, but I'll see you after."

The walk to the infirmary was blissfully quiet and male-free.

"Yep, the whole thing is fixed now. It seems like all the systems are good to go."

I open one eye as the tech returns, chewing on his lip with a phone to his ear. He isn't much older than me, and his scrubs look crisp and brand new.

"Oh. No, that wasn't it. It was a coding error, but I fixed it. And, uh, I've got someone waiting for their appointment now, but you'll receive a report as soon as I'm done here. You're welcome."

He hangs up the phone, and turns to look at me, his brows furrowing together. "I'm sorry, the update we got from Erudite was buggy and it shut down the whole system. I used to think they really knew what they were doing, but I guess not so much anymore."

I hear the machine come to life as he pushes the power button, the whirring and humming starting as we are joined by another nurse. This one smiles at me as she introduces herself as Raquel, and then she takes a seat right next to me. She quickly explains she's here to perform the ultrasound while the tech observes as part of his training, and asks if I'm ready to see my baby.

"Yes," I answer, smiling back at her she places the wand on my stomach. The screen above me lights up with the outline of the baby. I'm taken aback by how much larger the baby is now, feeling a strange sense of disbelief that he's able to fit beneath my ribs. I keep my eyes on the screen as she moves the wand around, causing different angles to pop up. She measures his arms and legs, then his head and torso, before turning back to me.

"Everything looks great. I'll send these to Dr. Denten, and she'll go over them and call you to follow up. The baby's growth and development look fine, and everything is within the expected range. I'm going to print some photos, would you like a few copies?"

I nod my head again, watching as she frowns at the screen.

"I can see that your baby has its head down and is sucking on its thumb. But unfortunately, I can't tell the sex from this position. We can try again in a week if you'd like, or I can look it up and see what they thought from your last visit?"

"That's okay, my husband has the info. I'll get him to tell me," I reply, sitting up a bit and reaching for the towel the male technician is holding out to me. I hadn't really bothered to ask Eric before, but I'd already figured out the baby was a boy, so I really had no reason to.

"Sounds good to me." The woman beside me rises, motioning for her friend to print out the photos.

I wipe off my stomach, sitting up and rearranging my dress. I wish I'd brought a sweater, because I suddenly feel freezing cold as I wait for her to hand me the pictures.

"When will my next appointment be?" I hop off the exam table, smoothing the dress down. I want to make sure that Eric will be at this next one with me, and I also want to make sure I don't forget about it again.

"I would say about a month from now. Dr. Denten will start to go over a few things with you: your birth plan, where you're delivering the baby, if you'd like to have any medication during the birth, and so on. She'll also talk with you about your care after the baby. You'll follow up with her, but she'll also suggest you find a pediatrician for your baby and a night nurse or nanny during the day if you would like one. I know you use Arlene for almost anything medical-related, but Erudite has a few doctors that can come here as well. It all depends on what you'd like."

She smiles at me and hands me a bunch of pictures.

"These are from today. You can also opt into doing a more advanced ultrasound in Erudite. I know your father-in-law is there, and I believe it can be done at his hospital. As of right now, there's no need for that, but it's something you and Eric might like. It's a more high tech look at the baby."

"I'll tell him." I gratefully take the photos from her, glancing down at them.

They are black and white, and the baby looks far larger and far more developed than I'd imagined he would. I wonder what name Eric has picked out, because it seems impossible to choose a name for someone we haven't met yet.

"Will you two be at the next appointment?"

I look up to find them grinning at me, and they both shake their heads.

"I might be," the woman offers up. "But he'll probably be back in the infirmary. Once the initiates arrive, Arlene's staff doubles for the duration. Most of us will be helping her out for a while."

"Right," I tell her as it hits me that the initiates will be here sooner than I was expecting. I had every intention of joining Four for as long as I could, though I'm sure Eric will hate the very idea. "I should be okay to keep working, right? I don't need to stay home?"

"Definitely. I see no reason why you wouldn't be fine to continue working."

I smile widely at both of them, delighted at the news. "Thank you so much. It was very nice to meet you, Raquel."

"You're welcome, and likewise." The woman offers her hand to me, seeming far too polite for someone in Dauntless.

The other nurse smiles, stands up and holds his own hand out to me. "Thanks for your patience this morning while I wrestled with the computer." He chuckles softly.

I smile back at him, quickly scanning his name tag so it doesn't appear that I've rudely forgotten his name.

"Anytime. Thank you, too, William."


	60. Bibbidy Bobbidy Boo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muchas Gracias to BK2U for editing such a fun chapter! I am so honored that you've continued to edit this story, and it'll be surreal when I no longer am sending you chapters for this story.
> 
> On that depressing note, thanks to everyone who has been following from the start! We are quickly approaching the end, and I'm grateful for every single reader, review, and follow on this story.
> 
> Enjoy!

"How does this one look? Good? Bad? Too long for you?"

Christian peers up at me from behind glasses that seem bigger than his face. He brushes his perfectly flat-ironed hair out of the way as he stands up abruptly, a blur of manic energy for so early in the day. I can only blink at him, wondering how on Earth his fancy black outfit isn't the least bit wrinkled at eight in the morning.

"It's perfect, really. I think it might be my favorite one so far," I confess, turning to get a glimpse of myself in the mirror one more time.

I'd gotten his email at the obscenely early hour of six a.m. The message, instructing me to meet him around eight for a fitting, had been a pleasant surprise, one that I appreciated receiving for a few reasons. It was certainly a nice break from the unending demands for security reports. I could only take just so much of the faction leaders, leaders' assistants, and faction ambassadors hounding me for information I didn't have. I'd taken to simply clicking out of the emails and marking them important so I could come back to them at a later time. I knew what they wanted, but unfortunately, none of us had any answers for them, and my emails back would do little to ease their fears.

The second reason, and probably the more important one, was that this was much needed, even though I'd tried to pretend it wasn't.

Despite my best efforts and optimism, I'd reached a point where my wardrobe was less work-appropriate and far more let-me-flash-you-as-I-walk-up-the-stairs inappropriate. I was lucky that Eric was usually the only one behind me, but his hand pushing my butt up the steps as he tried to yank the fabric of my dress down wasn't as fun or as hot as it sounded. His scowl when we reached our designated floor was enough confirmation that my clothes no longer fit, and that he wasn't finding it all that seductive. I knew it wouldn't be long before he handed me his own uniform to put on or simply refused to let me leave the apartment.

Yet, I still couldn't bring myself to head down to the shops and buy anything.

So, when I'd received Christian's overly-enthusiastic email, rivaling Christina after a dozen cups of coffee, I'd found myself happy to go see him.

My walk there was quiet and pleasant, two things I hadn't been feeling lately. Even better, his studio was tucked away in a tiny corner of Dauntless, a quiet space that seemed fitting for his creative mind. I descended the steps carefully, holding onto the bottom of my dress as I made my way down the least rickety stairs in Dauntless. It somehow seemed appropriate that Christian's corner of Dauntless was nicer than the others.

Upon arriving, I was honored to find that he'd sewn multiple dresses for me, in every shade of black he could find. They were all similar: soft, black fabrics that were cut to look professional and very much appropriate for the wife of Eric, yet still fun enough that I wanted to wear them and wouldn't feel like I'd been dressed by someone else.

I was a little surprised to find that my enthusiasm did wane after the twelfth dress, though there was no way I would ever tell him that.

"They're beautiful, Christian. How much are they?" I twirl around a bit, noticing the length of this one hits the back of my knees. It's longer than anything I've worn here, but there's no chance that I'll accidentally give Dauntless an eyeful. I also notice that all of these garments lack price tags, something which I find a bit odd.

"Please, Everly. They're the least I can do. I know that you've been needing some new clothes for a while now. I've seen you walking around, one step away from giving our patrol squads a peep show."

I stop my twirling immediately.

"Um…what?"

"Everly, we all know that those boobs you have going on do not fit in any of those tiny dresses you own. Eric knows it, too. I've seen him walking behind you, looking like he might murder anyone who dares stare a second too long. It was adorable at first, but I can't imagine you'll manage to fit into them much longer, nor will Eric let you out of the house looking like that."

He pauses, and I hate to break it to his fancy little self that my dresses had been fitting just fine for a long time. It's only lately that they seem a tiny bit short, and up until the day Eric had yanked my dress down in the back, I'd found it pointless to buy anything else. I only need to dress up for work, and at home I just throw on Eric's shirt or a nightgown, which seems more than fine by Eric. I certainly don't plan on buying an entire wardrobe that I'll only wear for maybe a few more months. Besides, I've been too focused on other things, like the safety of Eric and my home faction, to worry about a few slightly short dresses.

"I thought they were okay."

"Okay," Christian repeats, raising an eyebrow at me, a mirrored yet tiny version of my husband's favorite expression. "Well, they were okay when you first got here. But this pregnant, no."

I frown, and I must look insulted, because Christian keeps talking and waving his hands in a distracting manner.

"Honey, look. You aren't that little farm girl that walked in here in that terrible pink dress. You're our ambassador to the factions. Our trainer. Eric's wife. You need something a little bit more Dauntless and — dare I say it — appropriate for what you've got going on. And Eric told me you've been busy with work, so I get the lack of coming down here to the man you know would make you whatever you want."

He pauses for a half second, not giving me enough time to protest that my pink dress is still very much in my closet and that my husband sure likes it an awful lot.

"So, I went ahead and used your old measurements, added a bit here and there, and voila! Your new wardrobe awaits you. No more flashing all of Dauntless. Eric can relax now, and no one will get pummeled in the hallways on your behalf."

I bite my lip, and I'm sure I have a strange look on my face. He has a point, but there's something in me that loathes saying goodbye to my current closetful of clothes, pregnant or not. It just seems so… official, considering Eric rarely enforced any kind of dress code from the start.

"I thought my dresses fit fine! There was nothing wrong with them. And Eric wasn't pummeling anyone. He's just… cranky because of all the meetings going on." My protest dies on my lips, especially when Christian shakes his head in disgust.

"Right. I mean, it not like he's always cranky or anything. But listen, I get it. You're short. In theory, the dresses should have worked. But right now, those dresses in your closet would barely fit a toddler. You can't visit the factions looking like that. But the good news is, as soon as you have the baby, you can return to wearing your tiny little outfits and still have this flawless wardrobe. They'll work post-baby, too."

Christian takes a step back, a pen stuck between his teeth, and eyes me critically. I feel rather exposed, which is ironic, given I'm more covered up than I have been.

"I don't just own tiny little outfits." I cross my arms, then immediately uncross them when he motions for me to step forward. "I looked fine. I've added a sweater and…"

"Uh huh," he interrupts, completely uninterested. He adjusts the sleeves of this dress a bit, squinting his eyes. "Do you like these longer or shorter? I like them longer, but I can make them shorter if you want me to."

"No, I like them longer. I really like them, actually."

"Good. You look beautiful, you know."

"Thank you," I tell him sincerely.

Despite my urge to protect my old clothes with my life, I have to admit that Christian's dresses are nice, especially this one. It's all black, and it wraps around the front and ties on the side. It reminds me of my pink dress from Choosing Day, but a newer and more mature version.

And much to my disdain, the pregnant version.

"Do you think these will last for the next few months?" I ask him, reaching for the dress I'd worn from my closet. I almost hate to put it back on. It had been of my favorites, but my new one is far nicer. "I don't want you to be stuck making a whole other round of dresses after you just made all of these."

"Everly," Christian drawls, shaking his head until I set the old dress down. "It's my job. And God knows I'd make anything for Eric. He mentioned you needed some maternity clothes and that you were insisting yours were fine. I was happy to help. Consider them a gift."

"Christian, this is way too much work!"

"I refuse to accept any payment from you." He shakes his head a bit sassily and rolls his eyes. "You need them anyway. It's not like I made you clothes you won't be wearing."

I reach for my phone and it's my turn to shake my head. There is no way he made all these dresses for fun, no matter how much he loves my husband. "I'll pay for them. I do get points for working, you know."

"I know you get paid, girl. This isn't about the points. I don't need them," Christian announces, continuing on with whatever he was doing.

"Here, let me grab my card. Well, Eric's card. I don't think I ever got one." I take a step down off the platform he'd had me standing on. I do want to pay for the dresses. I can't bring myself to take them for free, when he spent his time making them. I know how much work went into them, and it's more than I'm comfortable not paying for.

"Honey, no. Put that phone down right now. I said it's a gift. From me, one of your favorites. I even threw in a few extras for you to take home."

I look up to his bright smile and he waves his hand at me.

"I refuse to accept a single point from you. After all, what sort of godfather would I be to charge you for these? It was an honor to make them."

"Godfather?" I repeat, and his smile grows even wider.

"Eric mentioned it a few weeks ago. When he came to order one of the new jackets."

I cock my head to the side, my fingers frozen over Eric's name.

"Oh, he did? Okay, um… did he already pay for his jacket?"

I realize my words are spoken through gritted teeth, though Christian is paying no attention to me. His attention is focused on the front of his store and the footsteps walking in.

"Hello?" someone calls out, and Christian walks away, calling over his shoulder for me to wait.

"Hold that thought. I'll be right back! But just know that I'm honored, truly honored, to step into the position."

Shit.

When he's far enough away, I frantically push Eric's name. He answers on the second ring, and I start in before he can barely grunt a hello.

"Eric Coulter, did you tell Christian he could be the godfather to our son?!" I try to hiss the words loudly enough so Eric gets the point but quietly enough that Christian can't hear me. I'm not really mad, but I am a little confused. In Amity, children are often granted two sets of godparents, one from each parent. They would look out for the child if anything were to happen to their parents, and the honor usually goes to very close friends of the family.

I have no clue if Dauntless does the same, but I certainly never thought that Eric would pick his tailor as one.

"Hi, Everly, it's lovely to hear from you, too. I take it your appointment is going well." Eric's sarcastic tone floats through the phone, and I glance around quickly.

"It's going fine. Thanks for having him make the dresses, by the way. They've very nice." I adjust the sleeve on my dress, and then I remember I'm supposed to be annoyed. "But Christian just told me that…"

"Good. Can people see your ass when you're walking in these dresses?" Eric interrupts me, and I hear a door slam in the background. "Do they have actual sleeves on them? They're not just sundresses that you'll wear because you think they're pretty, regardless of the actual weather outside, right?"

I go silent and cock my head to the side.

"Everly?"

"They have sleeves," I slowly inform him, and I put one hand on my hip. "And no one but you could see my ass."

"Everyone could. You want Karl's whole patrol squad knowing you don't own anything but pink underwear?"

"Eric!" I blurt out his name, but I can hear him snorting as he tries not to laugh. "That's not…"

"I'm glad you like them. Tell Christian I said hello. And no, I didn't tell him he could be the godfather. I paid for my jacket and I told him I'd pay for whatever dresses you like. He's trying to put one over on you. I have no interest in the concept of godparents. That's just stupid."

"Thank you for the dresses. I love them," I answer, and I hear the heavy steps of Christian's fancy boots. "But you have to be the one to tell him. Not me. He thinks he is."

"Not on your life," he retorts.

"Eric!"

"Bye, Amity."

That's all there is to his goodbye; I can hear Max yelling his name, followed by someone shrieking, and I can only imagine it's Rylan when he suddenly hangs up.

"Sorry about that. Four was here, but I told him to come back. New initiates arriving means we'll be needing more uniforms soon. Yours will be ready in a week. I had to outsource those a bit and they aren't ready just yet. Good thing those Abnegation ladies have lots of free time on their hands."

Christian appears with a few more dresses in his arms, chatting away. "Now these, these are for after you give birth. I read up that you'll need to wear warm clothes, something practical, but stylish since you'll be having a lot of visitors. Eric said you have lots of leggings…"

I close my eyes as he heads towards me, arms full of clothes, and I realize there's no way I'm getting out of here anytime soon.

Which is totally fine, since nothing awaits me but more emails and a cranky, soldier-pummeling, godparent-avoiding husband.

 

 

 

"I'm not the baby's godfather, but that tiny little man is?"

The expression on Karl's face is a mixture of pure confusion and a whole lot of rage. I'm sitting in my new dress, trying not to get my sleeves in my cereal, and I realize I'm totally on the spot. I'd been happy to see my friend grabbing breakfast in the dining hall, and I'd taken the opportunity to stop and catch up with him since Christian's fitting had ended much sooner than I'd thought. But my funny story about Christian had taken a strange turn when Karl's face had turned red and he'd slammed down the frosted flakes.

"I though after everything we've been through, you'd at least consider me for one of the spots!"

"What? Karl what are you talking about?" I ask him, carefully taking a bite of my cereal. "What do you mean, 'all we've been through'? You want to be the baby's godfather because we sometimes work together?"

"Of course I want to be the godfather! And what do you mean, 'what have we been through'? We came here together. We were in the same class. I've earned it! Did you forget that your husband assigned me to work in the daycare, Everly! For months on end!" Karl answers hotly, and I suddenly regret sitting at his table. "He made my life a living hell, all because you got kidnapped and I couldn't stop it in time."

"Yeah, sorry about that. What was I thinking when Colton hit my head against the wall? I should have thought how that would affect you," I mutter, but he isn't listening.

"This baby is important!" He shoves his spoon at me, and I lean back a bit. "And our friendship should be important enough that you'd choose me!"

"It is important," I remind him, and I push a chocolate muffin at him as a peace offering. "Super important. You were the only person in our class that didn't hate me. And I'm sorry Eric assigned you to the daycare. He was a little… upset by what happened. But on the plus side, you did meet your girlfriend there, and she's pretty awesome."

I try to defuse the situation as I glance around quickly. A few people are listening in, and I notice Rylan's stare stuck on me from the pancake line. His lips are pressed together and he looks just as irritable as Karl.

"We haven't picked anyone to be the godfather. Christian just thought he was, and I don't think Eric corrected him. And he hung up when I asked him about it. Surprising that Eric actually doesn't like people to question him. Who would have guessed?" I weakly joke; Karl glares even harder.

"Oh, who would have guessed? The entire faction, that's who. Everyone knows Eric. That's why this is an important thing. Whoever he picks, that's saying something."

"It's my decision, too," I remind him, and I'm feeling a tiny bit defensive. "Maybe I'm picking someone in Amity. I have friends back there… I have…."

"You can't do that. You're not allowed to pick someone in another faction. And it should be me, by the way. I should be the godfather." Rylan comes from out of nowhere, slams his plate of pancakes down, and sits down beside me with enough force that the table shakes. "Faction before blood, EVERLY."

He says my name so loudly that heads turn, and I smile nervously at all of them. I shrug at Molly a few tables away, and she shrugs back, probably embarrassed for me.

"I…I…" I fumble with my words, and I stall by taking a drink of my coffee. "I don't know. We haven't decided anything. I don't even have a name for the baby."

"Vladimir. That's my middle name. You should use that," Karl hotly announces, and I try to swallow down my coffee. "Name your baby Vladimir."

"Your middle is Vladimir? Karl Vladimir…"

"Fuck off, he gets to be the godfather and who the baby is named after? NO. Do you even know who I am? I've been friends, BEST FRIENDS, with Eric for years. I've had to listen to him gloat about how wonderful he is. I had to remind him that it was fine that he decided he couldn't let you sleep anywhere but his bed. I had to listen to him bitch about some guy with a beard and dirty hair for DAYS. I had to find pink fucking fireworks, PINK fucking fireworks, just for you. Do you hear me? Dauntless does not have pink fireworks. We had to have them made, and you weren't even dead! Then, I had to console him and convince him that you'd eventually remember him when he was struggling with the fact that his precious wife had memory loss because of a serum that he himself had worked on, and support him when he had to keep you away from him because you couldn't remember that you'd decided to stop your own stupid birth control. At the very least, you should be naming the baby after ME!"

He yells the last part, and this time, the entire dining hall goes silent. I can feel everyone's eyes on me, and I officially wish I could crawl under the table.

"Um, Rylan…" I start, but he shushes me, waving his fork at me.

"Do you know how many times I've seen your ultrasound photos? I can't even tell what it is. It doesn't look like a baby. It looks like a weird blob with arms. I can't tell if it has hair or not. I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl. But I can tell you this, you owe me. You fucking owe me."

With that, he drinks his entire orange juice down in one rage-filled gulp.

All around us people stay silent, and I lock eyes with Quinten. He's wandered out to either replace the eggs or see what the commotion is all about, but he's clearly stayed for the story about my amnesia-filled decision to seduce my husband while not on any sort of birth control.

Had I known that little decision would lead me to this breakfast, I might have reconsidered.

"Hey, uh, you seem a little stressed out dude." Karl breaks the silence, causing a few snickers from the back of the room, but I'm grateful for the distraction.

"I am stressed out," Rylan snaps, and he takes an angry bite of his pancake. "I need a fucking vacation, and my request just got denied because Four is about to be gone for a few weeks, and then Eric will be gone for who knows how long after him, and a few days ago, this motherfucker shows up just wanting to 'talk' to my girlfriend. And then I find out I'm not even the godfather of my best friend's baby. So, yes, Vladimir, sorry I'm a little stressed out."

For a moment, it's silent again, until Karl nods his head.

"Totally get it. I was stressed out this morning. If it makes you feel better, Kyle fucked up the security codes. Made all the access codes to the compound 1111. We only noticed because Eric's code didn't work this morning and he threw his bagel at Kyle in a fit of rage. Then he stormed off and told Kyle he was making him work with Charlotte and maybe she could teach him to count."

Rylan contemplates this, and I contemplate the mental image of Eric lobbing a bagel at someone.

"That… okay, actually that does makes me feel somewhat better. That guy's a moron. He deserves it," Rylan mutters, and I stay perfectly still, hoping he'll forget I'm sitting there. "No offense to your girlfriend. I'm sure she can count."

"Totally. Hey, wanna hit up the gym later? I'm gonna work out with Harrison. I heard we got new punching bags. We wanted to take a crack before everyone else gets there."

"Cool. Yeah, sounds good to me." Rylan takes another bite of his food.

"Sweet," Karl answers, and still I don't say anything.

"You know what, thanks for listening. I feel better," Rylan announces, and I swear the red flush from his cheeks slowly fades away.

"Anytime. I got your back," Karl answers, and Rylan looks pacified, returning to his pancakes.

For one sweet moment, the crisis is averted. My relief is palpable as the dining hall returns to normal: people begin talking amongst themselves, breakfast is eaten, and the roar is soon deafening as Quinten heads back to the kitchen. I look down as I take a very careful bite of my cereal, and when I look up, they're both staring at me.

"You get two sets, you know. Think of it like an emergency contact. But more permanent. You could just choose the two guys now."

"What?" I stare at Rylan, then at Karl, then back at Rylan. "Oh, you mean I could pick the both of you…"

I trail off as they both nod their heads. I've never felt so trapped, not even when Evelyn threatened to kill me if Eric didn't agree to her demands.

Somehow, this is worse.

"I'll uh… you know what, I'll tell Eric!" I answer brightly.

They both grin, the same bright and overly-enthused smile that Christian had sported, and I hope neither of them hear me mutter shit when they look away.

 

 

"You know, they can't both be the godfather. Nor can all three of them. Our baby… he can't have three godfathers and not a single godmother. And maybe… maybe I don't want them all from here. I have friends back in Amity. I mean, my friend Jake, he was so annoying when I was young, but we eventually became good friends, and…and Eric, are you even listening to me?"

I stop rambling, crossing my arms over my chest as Eric finally looks up from his phone. I've been in his office for a good twenty minutes now, waiting patiently while he finished up a conference call with Jack. It sounded tense, and I can only imagine it got more tense when Eric grew bored and abruptly ended the call. I took the opportunity to immediately relay what had happened this morning, but he shook his head and stared right at me.

"Eric, did you hear what I said?"

"No."

"Eric!" His name comes out as more like a yelp, and he blinks slowly. "I said…"

"Yes, I heard you. And you've never mentioned someone named Jake." He rolls his eyes, then presses on his temples. "But for the sake of your argument, no, they cannot all be the godfather. Coulter doesn't need that many people as a godparent or even as some sort of emergency contact."

"Coulter. You're naming the baby Coulter Coulter?!" I ask him, disbelief washing over me. "Or are you speaking in the third person now?"

"Everly," Eric announces, and his tone sounds very unamused. "I have two meetings scheduled at the same time. Karl, Rylan, and Christian are the least of my problems."

"Christian also said my old dresses were more appropriate for a toddler. He should be disqualified just for that statement alone," I grumble, but it's halfhearted. "But the dresses he made are really pretty."

"They are. I like the one you have on. I like your others, but they aren't… suitable for what you'll be doing soon," he answers, pushing his chair back from his desk and standing up. "We have a meeting this Friday. Then you have a meeting with Jack next week. Then one with Cara. One with Andrew, and one with Johanna. I suggest you space them out so you aren't traveling for days at a time or all day."

His words are not a suggestion, though I have to say I agree with him.

"And as much as I'd love to stay here and help you out, Max is waiting for me. Linda will send you a list of travel arrangements and the squads you'll be heading out with. And I think Four is waiting in your office. He just texted me, but I think he meant to text you."

I rise up from my seat, and Eric stops right in front of me.

"I'll call you after the meetings. I can't meet you for lunch, but I'll see you sometime this afternoon. Have fun with Four."

For once, there is little to no mockery when he says Four's name. Eric simply kisses me on the forehead and is gone before I can say goodbye.

 

 

Four looks irritated when I see him.

He has a stack of folders in his hand, his phone is ringing, and sitting right beside him with a smug look on her face is Lauren. She looks rather arrogant, her dirty boots propped up on the empty chair beside her, and I have to restrain myself from politely telling her to get out of my office.

It isn't that I dislike Lauren; I think she did a great job with her class, and she clearly knows what it takes to train the initiates. She just always gives me the vibe that she's waiting for me to slip up, and I don't really have any time or patience for that right now.

Nor do I see why she is sitting in here.

"It's nice to see you both. Sorry to keep you waiting."

Instead of shooing her out, I smile widely at the two of them, and rather than sitting behind my desk, I stop in front of it and reach out for the folders Four has brought.

"I wanted to go over a few things with you for the class if you have time. Lauren just stopped by to say hello." Four says her name pointedly, seemingly sharing the same impatience for her that I have. She must pick up on it, because she sits up straighter and swings her feet off the chair.

"I just thought I'd check in and see how you're doing." Her gaze falls to my stomach, and I'm annoyingly relieved that I'm not wearing a sundress. "I know the initiates will be here soon, and I was just asking Four who will be taking your place."

"Taking my place?" I repeat, and Lauren smiles widely.

"As trainer for the class," she answers sweetly. "I mean, are you really planning on training them if you're that pregnant? Will Eric even let you?"

I could smack her.

"Eric doesn't make decisions about my job, but I don't see why he'd have any issue with it," I answer, and I can see her grow annoyed. "I'm perfectly fine to train the class, and I'm planning on it."

"You think so now. But soon you probably won't be feeling so great. And Four will be gone with his child, and the initiates will be left alone with… you."

I watch Four blink a few times, taken back by the overt insult of Lauren's brash statement, as though I were the worst person to oversee the new initiates. The room falls silent, and I suddenly understand why Eric preferred to snap people's necks instead of talking things out.

"They'll be fine. Unless you're offering your services to help? You should have just said you want us to work together." I raise an eyebrow at her and Four smirks.

"Like I'd have time to help you," she sniffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Or like that's even in the rules. I just want to point out that neither of you have a backup, and the two of you will both be gone soon. I want to be sure that you two have thought about that, or am I the only one concerned here? Will I be training everyone? Does that come with a pay raise?"

"We have thought about it," I announce brightly, and Four raises his own eyebrow at me. "But thanks for thinking of us. We'll keep you in the loop, if need be."

"Who is it? Who on Earth would possibly take over for the both of you?" she asks curiously, and I smile widely at her, hoping she trips over her shoelaces on the way out.

"Karl."

"Karl?" she repeats, and I can tell she's thrown off that I named anyone. "Who is Karl? Has he ever trained anyone before?"

"He learns quickly," I tell her, and I glance down at the files in my hand. "Did you want me to find someone to help with your class as well? Is that why you're really here? Or did you come by solely to insult me?"

Lauren stares at me, her dark hair pulled up so tightly in a high ponytail that I wonder if it hurts.

"Fuck off, Everly."

"Whoa," Four stops her, rising to his feet. "That's entirely uncalled for."

"Why on Earth would I need help? I'm not the one who got knocked up by Eric," she snaps, turning to look at Four. "I came in here to make sure that—"

"You came in here to be nosy," I remind her, and I hand Four his papers back. "Don't tell me to fuck off when you're the one insinuating I should be at home, or that I've neglected to do my job. And in case you've forgotten, Eric, the man who knocked me up, is my husband."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten about your marriage," she snaps. The look on her face tells me that this goes a bit deeper than just who's training my class.

I manage to refrain from rolling my eyes at her. Lauren's no better than Kacie, hinting that I got special treatment because I trained on a different shift than everyone else. Neither one is worthy of any reaction to their commentary, let alone a childish and immature reaction.

Except, I'm about at my wits' end with her questioning.

"Are we done here?" I ask her, and I notice Four has taken a step towards me. There's an unofficial standoff going on, us against her, just like in our training class.

"Definitely." Lauren stands up, and stalks past me. "Have a nice day, Everly."

She slams my office door shut behind her, intending for it to be a resounding, angry statement since it wasn't shut when she walked in, but I just shake my head at her childishness.

"What was that really about?" I ask Four.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he tells me, and he stares at the door. "But we do have some things to talk about, and I'm hoping you've discussed this little plan with Karl. Because depending on a few things, she might actually be right."

I keep my face impassive, hoping he can't see the fact that I most definitely have not talked to Karl about anything of the sort.

"Of course. He's happy to help."

Or he will be, as soon as I text him.

 

 

Karl, the little shifty jerk, texts back NO in all capitals, just to really drive his point home.

He claims he's too busy to learn how to train the class, even as a backup, and that Eric and he are working on something. I follow along behind Four as he leads us to the elevators, quickly trying to think of a way to convince him otherwise.

He sends back another text before I can think of anything good, and this one suggests he might have some free time were he to be assured that he's officially been granted the position of godfather.

I text back 'fine', mostly because the baby kicks hard and I suddenly step weird; there's a stab of pain, low across my abdomen, that makes me grit my teeth together.

I figure it must be a sign.

Karl's response is immediate, saying he'd be happy to meet with Four and me, and I can't help but think he's picked up a few tricks from Eric.

 

 

"That's your plan? To have Karl step in if we both happen to be gone?" Four is staring at me as I take a sip of my drink. "Were you planning on having him learn how to teach the class? Is this even something that's been approved? And since he's never trained a class before, he may end up needing back up. You think Eric is going to want to train a class of initiates that he isn't interested in marrying?"

Despite his worry, Four's tone is teasing, and I find it nice to see his dry sense of humor return.

"Hilarious. But I don't think we'll be gone at the same time," I confess, leaning back in my seat. "You'll be gone first, but I think I'll be fine on my own. Karl is just the next best person I can think of. I think he'd do great. But the odds are slim that you'll still be out when I can't work anymore."

"Everly," Four says slowly, his gaze fixed somewhere behind me. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you may not be feeling too well by the time the class is in full swing. Tris has felt awful for the last month. I told her to just stay home, but she's determined to keep working. She said she doesn't want Kacie to be short-staffed…"

"No, tell her Kacie will be fine. Tris should stay home," I say firmly, hoping to God my friend isn't going to work just so Kacie isn't put out.

"I have. She won't listen. She did turn down the overtime, but I think she felt guilty about that."

I try not to scowl. Of course, Tris would think of Kacie and her schedule before herself. Kacie will understand if Tris needs some time off, but if need be, I am fully willing to go down there and suggest she tell Tris herself that it's fine. "Tell her Kacie will survive if she has to work an extra hour. And don't worry about me. I can follow along with what we did last year. I think Karl would be happy to help. And worst case, you know Eric would step in. Maybe he'll finish the class with you. Didn't you work together once?"

"We did. Ask Eric how much he enjoyed that," Four laughs, reclining back to soak up the sun.

We'd decided to eat lunch outside, or really, I had decided and Four had come along with me. I wanted to escape for just a bit, and a change of scenery was much needed. The prospect of some fresh air and sunshine was an added bonus.

I quickly glance through the papers Four brought, and I'm happy he wants my confirmation that these are the ones we will be using. His training plans are similar to last year's, with a few of the lessons updated and days switched. Some of the lesson plans include sessions that Eric and I had done together, and I can still remember Karl's protest that Eric's training had been superior and more extensive. The new obstacles and training sessions are a seamless merging of the two classes, and I have to admit the new initiates will experience the most comprehensive class so far.

"I think these look really good. And I'm still planning on working as long as I can. Otherwise, I'll just be sitting at home for the next few months." I set the papers down, watching as a couple of maintenance workers walk past us. They nod in recognition before offering up a quick hello. "Are you and Tris ready for the baby? Do you have everything you'll need?"

I don't mean to change the subject entirely, but my own focus for the day is shot. I wait for Four to answer, nodding hello again as a second wave of patrolmen head back in.

"Somewhat. We're trying to get only the things we'll really need. Christina keeps suggesting all sorts of crazy things that she swears she's heard every baby needs, but Tris doesn't think we'll need any of it. I don't think she's bought much, really."

"Do you guys have a name picked out yet?" I ask.

"Sort of." Four shrugs, picking at his sandwich. "We do like a few of the same ones. I know she wants to know what name you've picked out. She wants to make sure they sound good together. She thinks they'll be best friends."

His words make me smile for the first time since this morning.

"Tell her I haven't picked anything out. Eric's referring to his child as Coulter and won't tell me the name he likes."

Four stares at me, his face registering disbelief. "Are you telling me you really don't know what he's picked out?"

"No." I grin. "But I'm sure it'll be fine. And I'm sure our kids will be friends. They'll be close in age. We'll see you guys all the time."

"I guess. You do realize they'll be in the same class," Four points out. "And you know that Eric won't love this idea, right? I know you do, and I know that Tris likes the idea of our children being instant friends. But Eric isn't going to want his child hanging around mine. Imagine what'll happen when they have to compete against each other."

"He'll get over it," I tell him, though Four doesn't look at all convinced. "He can't control who his son is friends with. And if he tries to, I'll redirect his attention."

"I'm not saying I need his approval in the matter, I'd just like to continue to get along amicably," Four says, and I suddenly feel like I'm missing something.

"I don't think that'll be a problem. What could possibly change that would make him that upset about our kids being friends?"

Four opens his mouth to answer, but closes it when Rylan comes bursting around the corner, pointing his finger at me.

"EVERLY COULTER. You are dead to me. DEAD. You said I could be the godfather. You said you'd tell Eric!" Rylan yells the words at me. "You are a lying Amity liar! You need to tell him right now! You tell Karl it's not him, it's me."

"What?" Four turns to look at him, and I suddenly wonder if he has any clue as to Rylan's relationship to Eric or if he just thinks he's nuts. "Why is she a liar?"

"She said I could be one of the godfathers. And Karl just called me to tell me that he officially is one. You haven't said I'm the other official godfather yet, and Karl said you're going to pick Christian."

Four stares at me, and I can feel all the blood drain from my face.

"Oh, shit." I swallow hard. "Rylan, I just told Karl…"

"Pink fireworks, Everly. You know who makes pink fireworks? That weird kid with the glasses who hangs out by the gates all day long. The guy no one wants to talk to because he's weird and knows how to make pink fireworks."

"Wait, are you talking about Owen? Doesn't he work as a guard at the gates? At the guard station? He's not weird," Four answers, and I hold both my hands up at Rylan.

"No, he is weird. But fine: Rylan, you can be the other godfather. I just didn't have a chance to tell you. I'll call Eric right now."

I give in, trying to force myself not to care that these two men have been fighting all day long over the right to be an emergency parent to my unborn baby. I mean, sure, it's very sweet, and I clearly will never have to worry that the baby will be left on his own. I just need Rylan to stop yelling, and for no one else to ask to be a godparent or have any other involvement in the baby's life.

"Okay, but I'm the number one godfather. Karl gets to be the second one listed, not me." Rylan narrows his eyes at me, and Four starts laughing.

"Oh, boy," Four snickers, "You have fun with this. I'm gonna bring these inside and submit them as the official format. I'll forward them to your email."

"EVERLY, did you hear me?"

"I'm coming with you," I tell Four, but he ignores me, standing up and trying to pry the lesson plans from my hands. I swear they're about to rip, yet somehow they don't.

"I'll be fine on my own. It sounds like you have important business to attend to. I'll see you later." He grins and waves at me, turning around to walk back into Dauntless.

"I CAN SEE YOU IGNORING ME, EVERLY."

As Rylan comes closer to me, I glare at Four's retreating form. I wait for him to come back, to possibly distract Rylan any way possible, but he doesn't.

For the first time in my life, I agree with Eric's declaration that Four is nothing but a dirty traitor.

 

 

"You told them what? That they both could be the godfather? Like as a couple?"

Eric snorts the words into my hair and I elbow him in the ribs. We'd gone to bed much earlier than normal. I'd found myself exhausted, and I couldn't even muster up the energy to greet Christian when he showed up with all of the remaining dresses he'd made. I'd let Eric deal with him, choosing to soak in the bathtub and pretend the world outside of the bathroom didn't exist.

"They are both obsessed with the idea. They wouldn't let it go. Rylan came running after me to make sure he was listed first. I don't even know where I would list that."

Eric snorts again, reaching his fingers around to lace through mine. I'm lying with my back against his chest, trying to stay awake to enjoy this moment with him.

"No clue. But I'll tell them both to relax. I'm sure they'll forget about it by the morning," Eric offers up, pulling me back against him even further.

I wish I was facing him, but that position no longer works at all. I have to admit that I'm starting to miss being able to curl up against him the way I want. Eric has been my sole source of comfort my entire life in Dauntless, and it's starting to become frustrating that I can't quite get close enough to him.

But this feels pretty good, and I'm totally content for the first time all day.

"And Lauren! Lauren showed up in my office, asking me who was replacing me. Implying that you wouldn't want me to train the class," I mumble, and his fingers tighten on my own.

"I don't," he says matter-of-factly. "I also don't want you to go to the factions. You know that I want you to do what makes you happy, but I also want you to stay here, where you're safe. But I wouldn't tell you that you can't do something unless it directly puts you or the baby in danger."

"So, jumping off the roof with the initiates is out?" I yawn, and he shoves his leg between mine.

"Funny, Amity."

"Are you going to call the baby Amity, too?" I ask, my eyes closing as I settle back against him. "Or just Coulter?"

"I'll call the baby by the baby's name," he answers, his own voice tired now. "And don't worry about Lauren. She must have too much free time. I can remedy that if you'd like."

"Yes, please." I give in, and I can feel him rest his head against my own. I start to fall asleep, warm and happy. "Goodnight, Eric."

"Goodnight, Everly."

He pulls me even closer, until there really is no space between us, falling asleep right along with me and Coulter Coulter.

 

 

The boxes arrive all at once.

I wake up out of a dead sleep when someone starts banging on the door. I shove the covers back and head towards the living room, scowling that someone has woken me up early when I didn't have to be at work until later.

I answer the door half asleep, pushing my hair out of my eyes and feeling thankful I have Eric's shirt on, and an overly-large man bounds past me. I barely have time to greet him or ask what he's doing, but it's clear he's on a mission. He and three other men file in, carrying box after box to the spare bedroom, yelling at each other to hurry up. I stand there watching them wordlessly as they make multiple trips, wondering if maybe I'm dreaming.

"Sign here," the first man finally tells me, handing me a tablet. "Is Eric here?"

"Uh, no, he's… at work."

"Gotcha," the man says brightly, way too enthused at this early hour.

I sign my name in the box and hand him the tablet back, still confused. "There you go."

"Great, thanks. Someone will be here in a few days to put it all together."

"What?" I blink at him, feeling way too tired to understand what he's talking about. "Put what together?"

The man stares at me, then smiles widely.

"Your baby furniture."

 

 

"Maybe — okay, just hear me out, Everly — maybe we should have some sort of male entertainment. Tris would love that. Think of the look on her face when she realizes the guy dropping off the food is not only staying but taking off his shirt, too!"

Christina's voice grows more excited as she talks about her idea, resting her elbows on my dining room table. She's been here for the past hour and a half, having come over for dinner and dessert. It felt wonderful to see my friend so happy, and after spending the past few days going over travel plans, I definitely needed this.

To make it even better, Rylan had come with her, his attitude reverting back to his usual happy self once he was assured he wasn't being pushed out of our lives by Karl. I'd come to realize that the baby wasn't just going to affect me, but our friends as well. It felt a little selfish that I hadn't stopped to think about them, but I felt better when Rylan apologized for acting so psycho.

He made it clear that he still was determined to be the number one godparent, but he was a little more laid back about it now.

"Christina, do you really think Tris would like that?" I ask her, trying hard not to insult her. She's known Tris longer than I have, but I have serious doubts that Tris would go for this. "She's due really soon. And I don't even think she's going to want this party or some guy taking his clothes off…"

"Um, are you suggesting there are people out there who don't like male strippers? I bet Jason would do it for free. And I'd pay good money to watch him sit there, naked, helping Tris open up baby gifts," Rylan offers up, his voice drifting over from the living room.

Next to him, Eric snorts and shakes his head. I thought he and Rylan were engrossed in their movie, one that Eric had been dying to watch, but I guess not. He'd told me it involved something about a murderous alien that could shape shift, and I'd politely declined. My love affair with Eric's movie collection has been waning of late, mostly because whatever we watch is now showing up in my dreams.

"While I agree that the image is hilarious, we all know Tris would hate that. In fact, we both know she'd rather die than even have this party," I remind everyone, scraping the frosting off the cupcakes Christina had brought and smashing it back down.

Two days ago, Chris and I had been talking over coffee, and I mentioned that Tris hadn't bought a lot for the baby yet. Christina had the sudden idea that we should throw a baby shower for her. I wasn't exactly sure if that was a typical Dauntless celebration, and I was right when Christina confirmed it was rare and unusual to have such a party. She told me that since she's been here, she's been invited to exactly zero baby showers.

Which wasn't really a surprise to me, since I didn't know a single friend of ours with a baby.

But it also made sense, since I imagine that the warrior faction would be far too busy and far too violent to stop and celebrate the impeding birth of a child. I can't imagine soldiers sitting down and eating cake and watching as their friends ooohed and aaahed over tiny clothes and diapers. But Four is one of our leaders, and we all know there will be an unspoken importance placed on his child, just as there will be on mine. I'm sure people would want to celebrate with them, even if they don't know it yet.

The idea for the party couldn't have come at a better time, either. Things around Dauntless have been pretty bleak lately, and aren't showing many signs of improvement.

It's hard to believe, but Evelyn was executed over a month ago. The time has flown by for me, but each day I've seen Four, I knew he was still thinking about her. He may have made peace with her death, but I knew from my own experience that she would creep into his thoughts when he least expected it. We've all given him some space, and he's graciously taken it and thrown himself into work, even going so far as to meet with a wary-looking Karl and a sulky-looking Eric, just in case we're both gone from the initiation class at the same time.

Much to my delight, Four and Eric have even come to some sort of uneasy truce again, coexisting for at least an entire hour a day. Even better, Eric no longer looks at him like he has a target on his forehead, and Four no longer looks at Eric like he's expecting him to shoot him in the face at any given moment.

It doesn't mean they love each other, but there's a mutual respect there now that wasn't there before.

But everything else still feels weird and intense. Even my own job has taken a fairly sharp turn from ambassador into safety monitor. Just like it should be, factional security is our highest priority now.

After the execution, Eric and Max had tripled the amount of men that patrol the factions. But rather than making people feel more secure, it'd had the opposite effect: most of the factions felt panicked by the presence of the armed guards and the large grey trucks that prowled through their empty streets.

Johanna's email had come first, expressing the edge that her community was on. She explained it was hard to lead a peaceful existence when men with rifles were tramping through the fields and adjusting security cameras multiple times a day. Her people felt uneasy, like maybe they were being left in the dark or at the mercy of the soldiers.

Eric hadn't taken it very well when I tried to explain why they would feel that way. He'd barked that they should be quiet, that these Dauntless men and women were risking their lives to keep others safe. And while I saw both sides, I couldn't really pacify either of them, and my talk with Eric felt like an epic failure. In the end, it worked out a bit. Eric pulled a few squads from the routes, and Johanna later apologized for being so quick to take offense to their presence.

A week later, Candor was next. Jack felt irritable that he was left out, demanding multiple meetings and even stopping a few of the soldiers to question what they were doing. If that wasn't enough to make Eric irate, he then received a call from Marcus, demanding a private meeting and insisting on being informed daily on exactly what the patrols had found. It set Eric off so much that he canceled my upcoming factional visits, sent out a mass email, and told everyone we would be hosting an all-leaders meeting, followed up by visits from both him and me.

I respected his decision, at least until I saw the schedule he'd made for us. I now had multiple visits scheduled to each faction, meetings with their leaders squished in between meetings in my own faction, doctor's appointments, a tour of the Erudite hospital, and a few measly days off before training started.

It felt like I suddenly had the weight of every faction resting upon my well-dressed shoulders, especially now that I'd realized how truly pregnant I felt.

On the inside, I was a raging mess of feelings and thoughts that felt like they should belong to someone other than me. I'd become forgetful, blanking on where I'd placed things or asking Eric if he knew where my phone was while I was holding it in my hand. I'd accidentally lost his favorite worn t-shirt and I'd misplaced his tablet a handful of times.

There were now days when I found it hard to leave the apartment because I wanted to stay home and organize things. Eric had given me a few weird looks — understandably, considering I'd hardly ever organized anything in our apartment before. It all mixed together with the terrible return of feeling exhausted and strangely uncomfortable, and so tired that I could fall asleep at a moment's notice, yet too exhausted to truly sleep unless Eric was beside me.

I despised it.

While I was struggling with all of this, along with trying not to feel terrible that I could barely keep my eyes open through dinner, I was now worried that Eric could be harmed again. The increased security meant extra hours for him. He'd gone on more than a few night patrols, each time leaving me a nervous wreck until he would finally slip back into our bed. I'd also struggled to convince myself I was truly safe, especially when I was home alone. My brother's words were still in the back of my head, and my brain brought them up every time I had a single second alone.

I also felt a responsibility to Eric, my husband, who seemed to need more attention than ever during the busiest time of our lives. I couldn't help but find him endearing, especially when he fell asleep with my fingers trailing through his hair, or with his arm thrown over me and my back snuggled against his chest. He was delightful and warm, a bit of comfort and respite from my nonstop thoughts, yet I often felt that I was failing him every time I stood up for myself.

I could see the look in his eyes, the one that told me he was reaching a point where he was truly close to snapping that I should just stay home, but he didn't. He'd given me his word that he supported me, and now I was left with the internal debate of was I okay with endangering my child just because I was too proud to send someone else? Did it absolutely have to be me that accompanied him to my own factional visits? Would he finally be furious when I went to join Four in a few weeks, wondering why on Earth I wanted to train a class while pregnant?

So, when Christina suggested we have dinner with her and Rylan, I perked up. I felt like the old Everly, the one who loved parties and all things happy, the one who would gleefully host something for her friends, and who knew just how to get Eric to agree to having it at our apartment. I couldn't tell her no when she more or less offered that I should host it, and I honestly didn't want to. Plus, the planning had been going really well until Chris's last suggestion.

"Fuck off with that idea. Stiffs hate nudity. I'm surprised she's even pregnant. I would guess she and Four have separate bedrooms."

Eric's ever-helpful commentary evokes an eyeroll from both Christina and me, completely negating the progress he'd made over the past few weeks.

"Maybe you should ask her how she got pregnant. Because your theory doesn't really hold up since she's about to give birth," Christina dryly suggests, and Eric snorts again.

"I'm good, thanks. I don't need the details."

"Hey, maybe you could be the entertainment. We all know you have no problem with nudity," Rylan shoves his friend's shoulder, and this time, I can't help but laugh.

"What do you think? Are you up for it?" I ask Eric, and he looks back at me over the couch. Our eyes lock as he cocks one eyebrow up, and he takes a swig of his beer.

"Sign me right the fuck up. I'll show the Stiff what she's missing," he snickers, returning his attention to the alien clown on the screen. "But, I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest you skip the stripper, invite her husband and a few of her bland friends, have some bland food, and call it a day. I highly doubt Four will enjoy this, either."

"That's so sweet that you've been thinking about Four so much lately," I tell him, and he throws me a death glare.

"Watch yourself," he calls out, throwing me one final look. There is no malice behind it, only amusement and a bit of disgust.

"I think dinner and cake would be fun. Maybe keep it small. We'll just invite a few of their friends, tell them to bring a gift, and we can decorate here."

"Here? You want to have this shit here?" Eric interrupts, his head spinning around again. "You do realize they have their own apartment, right?"

"She won't go for it," I tell him. "We want it to be a surprise. And this apartment is large enough to have everyone over."

"A surprise. Wonderful. They'll love that." He holds his beer up at me, and pauses for a moment. "Hey, you'll have to tell Forrest this isn't half bad, by the way. Much better than last time."

Rylan nods his head, and turns around to face us. "It's good. Maybe you should order some. For the baby shower you're about to be forced to attend."

"You'll also be there. Don't think you're getting out of this," Christina points out, and I smile back at her, when Eric also reminds him that if he has to be there, so does Rylan.

I circle the date we've selected, pleased that Eric has agreed to this plan without even realizing it.

But if he does, I'm sure I can think of some way to make it up to him.

 

 

On Friday, the day of meeting hell, Eric holds my arm back so I don't punch Marcus in the face.

"Everly, knock it off," he hisses, though I feel that if I struggled hard enough, he'd eventually let go of me.

"Why is he even here?" I ask, and I'm startled to find that I feel a raging hatred towards Marcus's face. "Eric, let me go, we need to…" I start up again, but his fingers tighten on my arm, painfully so.

"You know he's here for the meeting with all the other leaders. That's all." Eric's voice is firm, and I reluctantly give in. "Go tell Rylan we're almost ready. The meeting starts in five minutes. And try to calm down by then. I know you don't like him, but you can't just punch people for no reason."

When I look back at him, he's smirking.

"If that's not irony at its best, then I don't know what is," I tell him as he loosens his grip on my arm.

"Go." He none-too-gently nudges me forward, but I don't go any further than that single step. I stand there frozen, watching carefully as Four's father walks towards the conference room, knowing full well his son is sitting in there.

 

 

"There's something you're not telling us. I feel like you've left us all in the dark, and I think the others might just agree with me."

Marcus's voice just gives me another reason to hate him. I'm not sure when I became Everly the Hater, but I have found that there is not a single positive thing I could say about Marcus. He currently sounds smug, very pleased with himself, and I can tell he thinks he's brilliant as he tries to make it sound like we've been keeping a slew of secrets from him and he's here to make that known. I'd been beyond annoyed to find that he was here on behalf of Abnegation, and even the presence of a reluctant-looking Andrew Prior didn't really make it better. He might have sat there, throwing a few looks at me and listening, but so far he was letting Marcus do all the talking.

"Were you going to inform us that something else might be going on?"

"Has something gone on that you think we should have told you about?" Eric answers him, his voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps you could inform yourself by taking a step into the future and checking your email. The increased security is for your own protection. If you're feeling nervous about the presence of our soldiers in your faction, then maybe there's something you're keeping from us."

When Eric stops talking, the room is silent and hot.

Every single leader from every faction is in here, as well as anyone they'd brought with them. Jack and an assistant named Lucas, Marcus and Andrew, Cara and a girl with hair so blonde that I'd first thought she was Ashley, Johanna and Gingersnap, Max, Tori, Harrison, Jason, Rylan, Four, Karl, me, Linda, and Quinten, though he only dropped off drinks and an array of snacks.

I lean back in my chair, taking in the blank expression on Four's face, and I notice the way he's looked at the door several times now. I want to tell him I share his desire to get out of here, but I'm even more trapped than he is.

"Are you implying that I'm…" Marcus starts, but he's cut off by Rylan.

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Rylan, knock it off," Max barks, but he seems to share Rylan's irritation because he presses on his temples. "This meeting is supposed to give everyone some peace of mind. We're all here with one goal, and that goal is to keep our factions safe. We need to agree on the continued security detail that is only for your faction's benefit." He stops to throw a dark glance at Eric, who shrugs.

"If you're bothered by our presence, then my apologies. We thought you'd prefer that over having your people slaughtered in the event that Evelyn had any accomplices," Eric offers up helpfully, and I watch a few in the room cringe.

"Did she?" Johanna asks, and her stare falls to me. "Does anyone know if there's someone ready to take her place?"

"I'm sure there is," Rylan mutters, and I close my eyes as the room erupts into several loud debates. It's highly plausible that one of her minions has decided to continue in her footsteps, but we don't want that getting around. Especially not when Rylan can't personally confirm that information. The chatter continues for a few minutes, but it dies down when Eric stands up with a nasty expression on his face.

"There is no accomplice. Currently, all factions are quiet. Though, for those of you who have been paying attention, this is because of the heavy regulations we've placed. Travel is still restricted and visitation between factions is almost nonexistent. Our soldiers are heavily patrolling areas that we think might see any sort of activity so we can stop it the minute it starts. For those of you who do not keep up with technology, your updates are coming at a much slower pace. We have no way of predicting if or when someone will take her place, but we are doing our best to prevent it."

"By keeping us in the dark?" Marcus asks, and I have to look at Cara so I don't roll my eyes at him.

"You know, Marcus, you could always take one of the older computers. Stop requesting everything to be handwritten. You'd get your news much faster that way. It might give you some relief from wondering about issues you could easily ask about," Cara kindly suggests, though the look on her face tells me she's also exasperated by him. "I don't think we were invited here to debate how or when we're getting the news. We're here to bring back information to our factions. Max asked at the beginning of the meeting for anyone to bring up security concerns, and your only complaint is that there are too many."

"Marcus, just how exactly are you receiving your updates? By carrier pigeon?" Rylan interrupts, his tone serious as ever, and Jason lets out of a snort of laughter.

"That's enough," Max snaps and everyone quiets down, though I can see even Johanna is smirking. "We have serious business to attend to. Perhaps we need to take a break and regroup. We'll come back to this in fifteen minutes. Have your questions ready. Any security complaints can be turned in to Everly, and she'll assign them a priority to be investigated. Keep in mind that nothing is occurring that isn't for your own safety."

"I think that's a good idea," Harrison seconds, rising up. "Everyone be back at ten-thirty. Max, Eric, a quick word, please."

With that, he and Max storm out of the room, not bothering to see if anyone moves. I have a strong feeling this little break is nothing more than Max forgetting his coffee in his office, but I keep that to myself.

"Anyone else want a donut?" Rylan asks, and I stand up with him. "They're in the next room over."

There's a mass exodus as most everyone in the room files out into the hallway, heading towards our tiny breakroom. I'm happy for the break since I've been starving since I sat down, and the idea of a sugary donut is much more appealing than watching Marcus. I also want the chance to say hello to Johanna and see how she's doing. Her emails had made me a bit homesick, and I'd found myself wondering what my mother was doing. But I miss my opportunity when I see she's busy talking with Cara, so I grab the first donut that looks appealing and head back towards the door.

"Everly, did you make these?"

I look up, startled to see Jack holding up a donut at me. I have to shake my head no, wondering what on Earth would lead him to believe that I made them.

"I wish. I'd make them every day if I knew how," I answer, and he smiles slightly.

"You'll be in Candor soon, yes?" It's more of a statement, and I nod my head. "I'll make sure we have some of these when you're there."

"That's really nice of you," I tell him, noticing he looks far less stressed out than his emails conveyed. "Are you enjoying your visit here? And this meeting?"

I trail off, knowing Jack prefers things to be very orderly. I'm sure he's dying on the inside at the chaos that's currently happening.

"I am. It's nice to see everyone all together. Though, I am hoping we can persuade some of the other factions to utilize some of the technology they've refused. I believe that would put to rest most of their fears. And I will confess that after all the emails and constant communication, this feels a little…. redundant."

"I agree," I tell him, wishing I could show him my inbox. I'd already covered most of this information with the leaders, but I guess hearing it out of Max's mouth is even more reassuring. "I'm hoping it doesn't take too long."

"I predict we'll be here for a bit." He smiles, turning to accept a cup of coffee from his assistant.

I don't get to say much more to him. Jason and Rylan burst through the door at the same time, followed by Max, then Eric. I watch him lazily walk to the table, pausing as he critically examines the donuts before reluctantly selecting one. I watch him like I don't know him, and I have to confess that the sight of him makes me feel a little warm. His uniform is sharp and new, the jacket Christian made fitting him perfectly. His hair is neatly parted, a little more back than to the side, and he smirks when he catches me staring.

"Eric's been busy, I assume?"

Jack also catches me staring at him, and I try to fight off the blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Uh, yes. He has. I'm sure you have as well."

"Of course," he answers, clearly amused, but he pauses when we hear the voices just outside the door. It sounds like an argument is starting, but a mostly one-sided one. I politely excuse myself and head that way to see if I can help, though I stop in my tracks when I catch sight of Four standing to the side of the conference room with a grimace on his face.

He's talking with Marcus, and I nearly drop my blueberry donut when I hear Marcus ask Four if he really thinks it's wise for him to bring a child into this world.

"I've heard some rather interesting rumors as of late. Tales of how my son not only got married but is about to become a father. I found them entertaining at best, but there's really no truth to them, is there? I certainly wasn't invited to any wedding."

Marcus's voice sounds condescending, and I find it hard to stay still as Four crosses his arms over his chest, his expression blank.

"That's really none of your business, now is it?" Four replies easily. But I notice his posture gives away his unease, and I glance back, wondering if anyone else is seeing this. "Why would I owe you any explanation for what's going on in my life?"

"There's no need to be rude, is there, Tobias?"

Four stares at him and I badly want to interrupt them. But I remember Eric stopping me from interfering earlier, and I chew my lip so hard l taste blood.

"I don't think this is any of your concern."

"So, it is true," Marcus raises an eyebrow, and he seems to thrive off Four's discomfort. He takes a step closer, knowing full well that if Four steps back, he'll be visibly retreating into the empty room. "Do you really think you'll be a good father? You weren't even able to be a good son."

"You know what I think? I think you should leave," Four tells him firmly. He uncrosses his arms and shakes his head. "Before they realize that if anyone were to start something, it would be you."

"What are you talking about?" Marcus asks him, his voice low and threatening. "Are you accusing me of—"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. But you aren't as innocent in this as you pretend to be. You can make it try to seem like you're worried, but really, you don't want anyone knowing what you're up to. Dauntless soldiers really cramp your style, don't they?"

Marcus's spine stiffens, and I can see the anger all over his face. He reaches forward to grab Four by the arm, but at the last second, he pats his shoulder, far rougher than necessary as someone joins them in the hallway.

"Watch your mouth," Marcus tells him, his eyes flicking to the sudden presence of Andrew Prior. "I know Dauntless isn't big on respect, but I would think as a fellow leader you'd be capable of…"

"Marcus, what is going on?" Andrew asks, and I feel fingers touch my own, then move to grasp my wrist. I don't have to turn around to know it's Eric. "What are you doing? Is everything okay over here?"

"Everything is fine, Andrew. I was just trying to strike up a conversation, and it seemed to go the wrong way. I'm not used to such aggressive behavior."

"Oh, I think you're very used to being aggressive," Four retorts, and he takes a step towards him. "You're more than welcome to strike up a conversation anytime. Just not one about my personal life."

"I'd just like to know how you think you're going to raise a child. Is that really too hard for you to answer?" Marcus continues on, and this time I lean back towards Eric.

"Everly," Eric says quietly. "Everly, do you want me to step in…"

He stops when I shake my head. I flash back to Eric's dark disdain for Marcus, the story he'd told me about how he'd treated his own son right up until Choosing Day, and I want nothing more than for Eric to storm over there and beat the living daylights out of him.

But he doesn't have to.

Andrew is staring at Marcus, and his expression conveys a sudden understanding. I can almost see the pieces falling into place for him as he realizes that the rumors that plagued Abnegation were actually true. Everything about Marcus's body language seems predatory, right down to his posture towards his own son. I can see him desperately trying to hold himself together, but he's slowly losing it the longer he stands there.

"Tobias, did you hear me?" Marcus asks loudly, but Andrew steps between them.

"That's enough, Marcus. We did not come here for you to interrogate him. We came here as guests," Andrew reminds him, his voice firm.

"Andrew, I asked him a question. I have every right to an answer," Marcus snaps, his mask slipping a bit further as his jaw tenses up.

"No, you do not." Andrew steps closer, and I wonder if this is the first time he's ever witnessed such ugliness from Marcus. "What you're asking about is not your business."

"Shouldn't it be yours as well?" Marcus asks him, and my heart sinks a bit when Four grits his teeth together.

"Get out," Four tells him and he takes a step towards Marcus until they are face to face. "Now. Or I'll have you escorted out of here. I'll make sure you get your security information. In fact, I'll make sure you have plenty of security. Just get out of my face and don't come back here."

I can tell Marcus isn't used to being told what to do. His hands clench into fists and his shoulders pull back.

"You listen here—"

"No, Marcus, go home. Now. Not another word. You already got your answers about the soldiers, and the rest of this meeting is likely to run long." Andrew suddenly looks past him, and his eyes lock with mine. I don't look away, but I nod my head encouragingly. "You should go now."

Marcus stares his son down, contemplating what Andrew just said. I'm wondering what exactly Andrew Prior is trying to do, or if it'll even work. It isn't my place to interrupt, but if I need to, I'll go over there.

After an agonizing few moments, Marcus finally gives in.

"Fine," Marcus declares, "But this isn't over. You mark my words. I'll make sure the others know about your refusal to answer my questions."

With that, he throws one last look at Four, but Four remains composed and vigilant. He watches as his father leaves without another word, not bothering to wait for Andrew.

"Kill him," I mutter, and Eric pulls me back against his chest. "Right now. He's in the hallway."

"Calm down there, Amity. I can't just kill him in the hallway. He didn't do anything other than be a dick to Four."

"Eric," I protest but he shakes his head.

"He's leaving. Andrew now knows something's up, and Marcus isn't dumb enough to stick around and argue until he's exposed," Eric answers. "If it makes you feel better, I'll make sure he has surveillance twenty-four hours a day."

"Everly, can I have a word with you? You as well, Eric?"

I turn around to find Andrew Prior standing right in front of me, staring at Eric's hands on mine. When he looks up, I can tell he's upset.

"I just wanted to express my apologies that I'll be leaving. I think it's for the best that I accompany Marcus home."

"You know what he's hiding, don't you?" I break away from Eric and look up at Andrew. "Everything you're thinking right now is true. Every rumor that your faction ignored wasn't just a rumor."

Andrew stares at me, his full attention unwavering.

"He's not a good person. She told me, when I was with her, that he…"

"Evelyn?" Andrew asks, and I nod my head. Behind me, I can feel Eric's chest against my back, and I have to take a breath before I make my next suggestion. It's now or never, and the more support I have with everyone here, the better.

"He shouldn't be one of your leaders. He's hurt too many people. He also knew what Evelyn was doing, and he never once tried to stop her. Did you know he came here asking for our protection?"

Andrew glances back over his shoulder, I'm assuming looking for Four.

"No, I did not."

"He was afraid, but only because she could expose him for what he really is." I try to keep my voice down, thought we've drawn a bit of attention. Max and Jack are both standing with their arms crossed, and when Andrew sighs, Max nods his head at me in silent approval.

"What you're telling me is a very heavy accusation, Everly."

"I know. But you need to hear this from someone. It's not fair that he's allowed to walk around like he hasn't harmed anyone. How can he even lead your faction or head up our government when…"

"Are you suggesting we strip him of his title? If these accusations are true, they would certainly warrant such action. But I'd have to take this before…" Andrew starts and I nod my head.

"They are true. I know for a fact that he's hurt people," I answer, hating the way he glances at Eric as though he's still not convinced. I'm not about to grab Four and ask him to share his story, but I don't believe for a second that Andrew is completely in the dark. "Besides that, you and I both know that Marcus could very well pick up where Evelyn left off. Are you really that worried about the soldiers in your faction? Does their presence cause you concern?"

"No, of course not. Their presence is no bother to any of us. I didn't know Marcus was so worked up over it until we arrived here."

"Because he's up to something," I tell him, and Eric clears his throat.

"What Everly is telling you is true, and what you've heard is true. You don't want to believe he'd ever harm his child, but he did. You know that you've turned a blind eye to it, and this is your chance to make it right." Eric pauses, and his fingers touch mine again. "My advice would be to strip him of his title. Make him factionless. Unless the abuse of a child and wife is something your faction promotes?"

"Of course not," Andrew takes a step back, and his gaze swings to the conference room.

"I don't think it's safe for him to be in the position that he is," I tell him, and I wonder if he's thinking of his own daughter and wife. How would he feel were Marcus to come after them? There's no way he'll stay out of Four's business, especially once the baby is born.

"I'll handle it," he says firmly, and the relief washes over me. "I'll start the proceedings to have him stripped of his title. He can—"

"Make him factionless," Eric declares. "Let him live amongst those he sought to protect himself from. Let him live amongst that world and see how welcoming they are."

Andrew listens, and it feels like a year passes before he nods his head, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You'll help? If need be?"

"Of course," Eric answers, and when I turn around to look at him, his smile is dark. "You just let me know when."

 

 

"What flavors did you say you wanted? Vanilla and vanilla?"

The guy beside Quinten is staring at me with pure hatred, which I'm ignoring. I recognized the fucker right away, his dull stare and stupid haircut sticking out in my mind. He'd stood in the lineup of men that Eric had nearly murdered, the ones who'd worked beneath Peter. While I'd normally worry that he'd poison anything I order, I knew he couldn't be that dumb.

"No, chocolate and chocolate. The same as the Dauntless cake that you guys make. But can you write on it in blue frosting? Congratulations Tris and Four."

He nods his head slowly, probably wishing I had never set foot in the kitchen to ask for such a monstrosity.

A few days after the leaders' meeting, Christina and I had thrown ourselves headfirst into planning the shower. We'd come up with a plan that involved me inviting Tris over for dinner tonight, and I figured I'd sneakily bring up having her and Four over next week since she'd be less likely to decline in person. We've already made all-black invitations, picked a date and time, written a reminder that this was a secret, and printed them out in my office. I headed down to the housing office and asked for the apartment numbers for the guests, and I was thrilled when they easily printed out a list for me.

Despite having to wait to hear what's going on with Marcus, everything else is working out pretty well.

In between reading security memos and responding to emails the best and most helpful way I could, I worked hard on planning a menu that Tris and Four would like. Today, I finalized that menu, and I took a break to walk it down to Quinten myself. I was surprised to see Zach working alongside him, and I felt a tiny speck of satisfaction when he looked disgruntled at the sight of me.

Eric had instructed Karl to retrain Peter's men; then, in a moment of spite, he'd reassigned them all. He trusted no one, and certainly not the very men who'd once sworn an allegiance to Peter. He hadn't said anything to me personally, but I could tell by the grimace on Zach's face that this was Eric's work. To go from guarding the faction to baking muffins was a rather far fall, and not a pretty one.

"When do you need this by, Everly? Is it for you? You and Eric are having a boy?"

Quinten takes over, waving off Zach, and I can tell Zach still hates me just as much as the day Eric ripped the squadron apart. He returns to his work, not bothering to say another word.

"It's for Tris and Four," I tell him, and I show him the menu I've printed out. "We're having a surprise baby shower and I want to serve everything that they love."

Quinten sighs in disgust, his eyes raking over my printout. "Sounds delightful. If I remember their wedding correctly, and I do, the food will taste like absolutely nothing."

"Okay, well, maybe you could add a bit of seasoning to it? It's not a huge party, but I want it to be special."

"Fine," he unenthusiastically agrees, and I smile widely at him.

"And what about you? Eric hasn't ordered all of Dauntless to celebrate his baby yet?" Quinten remarks, scrawling with his chicken scratch on the paper beside him. "I keep waiting for that announcement."

"No, I think he's waiting until later to force people to celebrate with him." I smile, hoping I'm right. "Do you want my card or anything before I go?"

"Nah, I know you're good for it. Just tell me when you want it ready and if you want it delivered."

"I think Eric said he can pick it up, but let me just make sure," I tell him, pulling out my phone.

I glance down at the screen, surprised to find a few alerts beeping that I have messages from hours ago. I open the first one up quickly, and I nearly drop my phone in surprise when I read Tris's text.

Not only is she canceling our dinner tonight, she's currently in labor.

"Um, hold on a minute, Quinten."

I fumble with my phone, frantically debating if I should call Eric or Christina first, when the second text comes through, this one from Four.

My jaw drops open, and I nearly shriek when I see what's on my screen.


	61. Eric and Adam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so SO much to BK2U for editing this chapter AND sending it to me on Christmas Eve! You are the best!! I know you'll certainly miss editing thirty pages at a time. 
> 
> I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas Day!!

"Are you sure you don't want to hold the baby?"

I stare up at my husband, just waiting for him to extend his arms out. His grey eyes are fixed on me, narrowed and clearly unimpressed. His perfectly perfect hair looks extra slick today, combed to the side and stuck in place with what I know is an exorbitant amount of gel. His jacket collar is pushed up, which somehow makes him seem more intimidating, and his black shirt beneath is as dark as his jacket. He makes me smile because I can't help but feel it's as though he's dressed himself for battle rather than to go meet a day-old infant.

"Eric?"

"Everly." He crosses his arms over his chest, widening his stance even further.

I wait patiently, wondering if he'll hold him, but it looks like I might die before I ever see him reach for Four's child.

"I'm good," he finally sneers. It's a polite sneer, all things considered, since the baby's father is currently standing to the side of us, watching with a relieved expression on his face.

Maybe bringing Eric along with me wasn't the greatest idea I've ever had.

I had been elated to come see Tris, Four, and the baby. I'd gotten the message while I was with Quinten, planning the menu for Tris' baby shower. I'd nearly dropped my phone when I saw the picture, and I was tempted to sprint to the infirmary right then and there. Four had been kind enough to send me what I can only assume was the first photo of their baby, a pink and wrinkly little guy who scowled when he was taken away from Tris. I felt honored that he'd sent it, since the baby was merely hours old and I doubted anyone else had gotten that photo.

While my instinct was to rush over there and see them, I knew what happened right after childbirth and there was no way Tris wanted a slew of visitors, not even me. They would both want some time to themselves with their newborn baby, which I totally understood. So I called them, keeping my conversation short and quick, happily telling Tris how proud of her I was and that I would come by as soon as she was okay with it.

Once I'd hung up, I returned to talking with an extremely bored-looking Quinten. I changed my plans, figuring the very least I could do was order some meals for them to have ready for when they came home. It was unlikely that either of them would really be up for cooking. Quinten readily agreed, probably because he could now make whatever he wanted instead of the bland baby shower food we had been discussing.

I'd left happy; I had no qualms with waiting to see them, especially since I could still be helpful this way. I'm not so sure about Dauntless, but in Amity, the birth of a child is a big event. Families often do whatever they can to help welcome their newest members and to make the parents' lives a bit easier; they make home-cooked meals, donate their babysitting services by taking in younger siblings to give the parents a break, and often send plenty of homemade clothes and blankets. It's their way of welcoming the baby into the community, coming together as a faction to help the parents out.

Since my cooking skills weren't anything amazing, and I highly doubted that Eric would want us to babysit anytime soon, my best bet was to have Quinten whip them up something they'd like, and then wait patiently to be able to see the baby.

Which ended up being a day later.

I answered their phone call while I was half asleep. Once I was fully awake, I more or less forced Eric into coming along. He grunted when I informed him Tris had said to come by anytime, and he stared at the ceiling when I asked if he would come with me to see them. I'm sure he was hoping for some way out of it, but our ceiling was as blank as his stare, so he grudgingly agreed to join me.

Now we are standing here, the two of us facing each other while I hold the baby against my chest, as a stressed-out-looking Four watches as though I might drop his newborn son at any moment. If he only knew how many babies I'd held, most even younger than this one, he'd probably relax. But he doesn't know, and I don't want to sound like a know-it-all. So, I hold their son tightly, trying to ignore the fact that I am actually starting to feel panicky and a little overly warm. It isn't just the achy feeling in my stomach that everyone swore was normal, or the sharp pains that Tris had told me were practice contractions, or the fact that someone had, for once, turned the heat on.

It's because this baby is _tiny._

Much tinier than I remember a newborn to be.

He's neatly wrapped in a grey blanket, and I happily reached for him the minute Tris proudly announced that their baby's name is Adam; she then offered him up to me and smiled. But much to my dismay, and Eric's utter annoyance, Adam had cried the minute Tris had handed him over. He calmed down after a second, and I felt overjoyed when he closed his eyes and nodded off, because I would have felt like a total failure if he'd continued crying — especially when Eric was watching me with the same hawk-like stare as Four.

"Isn't he cute?" I ask Eric, sort of holding Adam up for Eric to see. He wrinkles his nose for a second, even though he could plainly see that the baby is cute; he's tiny, with a head of brown hair like his dad's, and so far he's been sleeping the entire time we've been here.

"He's…great," Eric says flatly, but he flashes me a blinding smile, one that tells me he doesn't really care, nor does he think the baby is cute.

"He's very sweet," I tell Four. "How much did he weigh?"

"I think they said six and a half pounds? Maybe?" Four rubs at the back of his neck, his exhaustion peeking through. He's taken a break from watching Eric to move over and sit by Tris, who's looking a little bit better with every passing minute. I'm not surprised to see that she looks so tired, but Eric and Four seem to be.

It was just my luck that Eric had taken careful notice of her right when we walked in.

On our way into their room, we'd run into Max and Harrison. They both looked grateful for our arrival since it meant they could leave without seeming rude, but it also meant that Eric had nothing to do except observe everything around him. He had laser focus on the fact that Tris was somewhat pale and a lot exhausted. Neither she nor Four looked like they had slept well, and the dull lighting didn't help.

But while Tris's hair might have been a mess, her smile was bright. She'd graciously handed me the baby the second I'd extended my arms, then grinned in relief before leaning back against a pile of pillows and closing her eyes. I could see the way Eric stared a second longer than was polite, and I would bet all my points he was making a mental checklist of the things he liked and didn't like about this scenario.

I would also bet the exhausted wife was one of them.

"Thanks for coming to visit. They said we can go home today if we're up for it." Tris opens her eyes, only to fix them on Adam. He's still sound asleep against me, and I adjust him carefully, looking at Eric just to make sure he still doesn't want to hold him.

He shakes his head, even after my encouraging smile.

"I'm sure it'll be nice to go home." I turn to Tris. "Was your stay here okay?"

"It was fine. They were very helpful," Tris tells me. "I mean, every time I've visited, the infirmary has been rough, but this time it was worth it."

I turn back to Eric again, and his face is impassive as he shrugs, glancing around the room, surveying the surroundings.

Tris had gone into labor three weeks before her due date. It had happened quickly, and she had given birth in the small area that was our birthing center. It's quiet and warm, out of the way from the endless stream of Dauntless members who traipse in to see Arlene with their minor wounds. I haven't seen a nurse or Dr. Denten, but there's a board with her name on it, and a smiley face that encourages them to get some rest and to enjoy the baby.

To me, it looks like things have gone just fine.

But I know what Eric is thinking. The hospital rooms in Erudite are large and almost luxurious, far nicer than here. They're spotless and bright, and clearly no expense was spared to make their patients feel welcome. This room is not overly large, and I can see that even though it's current and far more equipped than I'd expected, it's in no way up to Eric's standards.

There are also no guards posted anywhere, no one standing there to question whoever walks by, and there's minimal security for the entire infirmary. The walls are also a flat grey color, probably meant to be soothing, and the whole thing feels very quiet. I have to admit it's on the dreary side, but Tris won't be here long.

Still, I could tell Eric hates it.

His eyes glance over the equipment, sparse and probably rarely used. I know what he's thinking, that this room is woefully unprepared, and I have the feeling that he'll be hell bent on making sure his child is born in Erudite.

"He weighed six pounds, four ounces." Tris yawns, and I hold Adam closer to my chest. He's warm against me, and despite my nervousness, I have the urge to never put him down.

"Sounds a little small if you ask me." Eric mutters the words so only I can hear him. I can't tell if he's joking or not, or if he's truly hoping his own child weighs something like twelve pounds just so he can beat Four.

"Eric," I say his name, scolding him, but he merely smirks, and I know he's not totally serious.

"I think he's perfect." I smile at him, and he narrows his eyes. "Are you sure you don't want to—"

"We're supposed to be in the office in five minutes. So I'll have to pass, and you'll have to hand the baby back."

"What?" I jerk my head up at him, completely unaware of his plans. "I thought we had plenty of time. We aren't leaving for Erudite until this afternoon."

"Are you both going to see Cara?" Four asks, sounding just as curious as I am. "I can't remember if I'm supposed to join you on one of the trips or…"

"Your leave was approved. It started yesterday, or whenever you'd like it to. I don't expect you to accompany me anywhere, and if you must know, I'm going on personal business and Everly is going as a follow up to the meeting." Eric sounds cross now. "We will both be back this evening."

"Then, why are we going now?" I ask, still holding onto Adam. I'd rather spend more time here than stuck in the office, but the look on Eric's face tells me he's been here long enough. "Are you sure we have to leave?"

"You're meeting with Tori to go over the lists from Cara and Johanna. Both would like help with some security work and whatever other issues they sent you."

"Oh yeah, I have both their emails," I answer, realizing my fun is coming to an abrupt end. "I guess I will be heading out now."

"It's okay. I'm glad you came by. Thanks for visiting, Everly…" Tris pauses, and her eyes flick over to Eric, glued to his phone. "…And Eric. You guys are the first ones to see the baby."

"You're welcome. And Four, Jason and Rylan said to tell you they moved all your…stuff in. Christina unpacked it, so good luck with that." Eric looks up from his phone, and a delighted smile crosses his lips for the first time since we've arrived. "She said there are a few surprises for you to look forward to."

"Great. Will you tell them 'thanks' for me? Next round of beers is on me," Four answers, staring down at the sheets with great interest.

He doesn't look thrilled at all at Eric's words, even though it isn't a big deal. I know that it must have killed Four to ask for such a favor, but he'd been forced to, given the circumstances. I hadn't known that he and Tris were moving, not until I walked into Max's office to pick up my training packets. Max had been in there with Eric, and I watched my husband's eyes narrow as Max handed Eric a key and told him Jason and Rylan and Harrison were available to help move Four's stuff since there was no way Four had time to do it.

"Everything is boxed up. They just need it moved over. Four said he can start on it later, but he hasn't picked up the key yet, and they need to be out by today. All leaders are required to live on one of the main floors. I've given him enough time to move, and I'm not assigning him personal security just because he likes loft living."

I could tell Max wasn't mad, he just didn't have time to deal with this. I felt guilty standing there, thinking that had I known, I would have offered to help. Eric's amused look dropped off his face when Max told him Tris and Four were moving into the apartment next door to him, and that he appreciated his help.

The very apartment Max had once given me a key to.

I wanted to ask if that was the real key, since mine had clearly opened nothing. But I was shooed out when Jason appeared, reporting for moving duty. He was followed by Rylan, who grinned widely when he saw me, and I prayed he wouldn't utter the word 'godfather' around Jason.

All in all, it hadn't taken Rylan, Jason, and Harrison very long to move all of Tris and Four's stuff. They'd roped in Karl and a few of his friends, and Christina and Charlotte had unpacked all the boxes and set up the nursery. Christina had called me a few times, shrieking that Tris had nothing for the baby, until Rylan took her phone away.

"We should let you guys get some rest. But if you need anything once you're home, just let me know. We'll be right next door."

"Thank you again, Everly," Tris tells me, and she smiles so sincerely that for a moment I think she might cry. "I'm happy we'll be so close by."

"Me, too. And Adam is adorable. I love him already," I grin. Behind me, Eric makes a noise that sounds like he's dying as I reluctantly hand Adam back. "I'll see you soon. Congratulations."

"Bye," Eric declares loudly, taking my hand and half pulling me out of the room. I barely get a goodbye uttered to Four before Eric slams their door shut, pulling me through the mazelike hallways towards the front of the infirmary.

"Don't you think he's cute?" I try to slow Eric down, but his grip tightens on my hand as he pushes onwards. "Didn't you want to ask them what his name was?"

"I couldn't care less what the Stiffs named their baby. I'll never acknowledge it by its name," he announces, rounding a corner and nearly taking out a nurse. She shrieks in surprise, and he shoves past her with a vengeance.

"Get out of my way."

"Eric, what's going on?" I grasp his hand with my other hand, trying to stop him, and it's clear something has irritated him. He can't possibly have decided that he hates Four all over again just because they are now neighbors. He'd even been the one to approve his time off, and he'd generously written it for far more than Four had originally asked. "Why are you so—"

"Well, well, well, look who it is. How are the two of you doing?"

I nearly slam into Eric, steadied only by his hands, and I try not to groan when I see Arlene standing before me. There's always a chance of seeing her here, but today I'm in no mood to answer her million questions. I'm feeling a little tired, I'm apparently about to be late for a meeting I've completely forgotten about, and an interrogation by Dauntless's most prying practitioner is the last thing I want to deal with.

I make sure I greet her politely, mentally debating if I have time to sprint past her and leave Eric to fend for himself, but I ditch that plan when I notice Dr. Denten standing behind her. She glances down at me, smiling widely when I finally untangle myself from Eric.

"Hello," Eric greets them coolly, finally dropping my hand for a split second.

"How are you two? Everly, you're looking great. Eric, you as well. I was just coming by to check on Tris and sign off on her discharge papers, but it's definitely a nice surprise to see the two of you here. Did you stop by to see the baby?"

Dr. Denten looks rather cheerful, her gaze flitting over my fancy new dress and down to Eric's hand now around my waist. He pulls me closer to him, as though he's afraid she'll whisk me away, and cocks his head to the side.

"Unfortunately," he answers, ignoring me when I elbow him.

Dr. Denten also ignores him.

"Eric, I got your request for your hospital visit. I can walk you through it later this afternoon if I'm back there in time, otherwise I'm sure Daniel will be happy to accompany you. We wouldn't typically hold an entire floor for..." She pauses, looking at me and smiling. "For the birth of one child. But I understand your safety concerns, and given who your father is, I don't think we'll have any problems arranging it."

I look up at Eric, taking note of the smirk on his face and the way he's clearly avoiding looking at me. I know in that moment that he's determined to make sure his child is born there, on an entire floor to himself. I can only guess that half of Dauntless will be on guard outside the doors, led by Jason and Rylan.

"Great," Eric answers, and his grip tightens on my side.

"Eric, do we really need an entire floor? I think we'd be okay with one room." I crane my neck up to look at him, and he flashes Dr. Denten a very fake smile.

"Yes, and no worries. I'm meeting Daniel in a few hours. If you're back in Erudite, I'll see you there."

With that, Eric continues forward, done with the conversation, and having given Arlene absolutely no chance to ask a single question. Before I can dare ask Eric just what he's been planning, he stalks us through the infirmary doors. He ignores the yell from Arlene asking me if I need anything and to come see her, and he completely ignores Molly saying goodbye.

"Eric Coulter, what on Earth is wrong with you?"

I stop, jerking my hand away from him. For the life of me, I can't figure out what his problem is. But I'm not about to let him act so rudely, especially without any real reason. I say his name again, and for half a second I think that he's going to keep walking.

But he does indeed turn around, stopping to place both hands on either side of my face.

"Nothing is wrong. We're going to be late and I hate being late. You know that. And I don't think Four's baby is that cute, either. His head is way too large," Eric announces hotly, leaning in. For a second, he stares at me, unblinking and intense, then he lets his nose touch mine for a second.

"We're never hanging out with them."

"Eric," I can't help but laugh his name; he's so seriously and amusingly annoyed by Four and his child that I want to tell him he looks like a child himself. "His head was fine. He's a baby. And we don't have to hang out with them. They aren't going to want to hang out with anyone for a while. Trust me."

"Promise?" he asks, staring past me for a quick second.

"I promise," I answer, pleased when he then kisses me until my lungs demand I take a break for air.

"Come on," he tells me, smiling — really smiling — as we break apart, and he takes my hand into his. His palm slides down mine, and his fingers pause before lacing between my own. It reminds me of our early days together, when his touching my hand told me how he felt, more than anything else possibly could.

"And I didn't need to ask because I already knew the baby's name. Damien is exactly what I was hoping they'd pick out."

I elbow him, trying hard not to laugh, but also not bothering to correct him. The rest of our walk to the elevator is quiet. I enjoy it, even the cold hallways and the dim lighting. Eventually, I forget about his horrible attitude and aversion to Four's baby. I don't let go of his hand, not until we reach the offices.

 

 

"Earth to Everly. Are you alright?"

Tori waves her hand in front of my face and I find myself blinking a few times, my attention returning to her. We've been sitting together for a good half hour now, in the same conference room we always meet in. The office is blissfully empty, and it seems like all of the guys went somewhere else to have their own meeting. I'm finding it rather enjoyable since no one is arguing or screaming over who used all the office supplies, though I can feel that my mind keeps wandering in the silence.

I can't help but to keep thinking about Eric. It feels a little odd that he seems to think he can control the baby's birth, because the reality of the situation is that he can't. Tris's own childbirth experience should have shown him that much. This isn't something he can manage with a plan, no matter how hard he tries.

Our run-in with Dr. Denten left me assured that he is dead set on making sure the baby will be born in Erudite. I have this weird inkling in the back of my mind that it isn't going to happen, that something will go wrong, especially while trying to get there. The thought bugs me, but I can't get it to go away, nor can I figure out where it's coming from.

I'd thought maybe it was just me. Maybe I was being selfish by not wanting to travel all the way there. But Erudite isn't a terrible place to have a baby, not by a long shot. It has Daniel, who I adore, and it has a sparkling medical facility that he works in. The faction itself is quiet, very clean and calm, and probably fairly low risk considering it's being carefully monitored right now.

Erudite also has Cara, and she's proven to be a fantastic leader for them. In addition to being brilliant, she's empathetic and patient, something people from Erudite often struggle to be. She knows she's smart, but she never pretends to have all the answers, and I rather enjoy talking with her.

When the announcement went out yesterday — a blistering email stating that Marcus Eaton had been stripped of his title and made factionless — she had sent me a message back right away. She went on to ask for my help in making sure Abnegation would now be getting their updates at the same time as everyone else. She was worried they'd be at more risk now than ever, and she wanted to personally see to it that they were up to speed. She offered to help in any way she could, and I could tell she was relieved when I promised her I'd talked with Andrew. I reassured her he'd be more than willing to make sure his faction stayed safe.

I'd read the email about Marcus a few times, leaning back in my desk chair and staring at the blinking screen until the words blurred before me. Marcus's banishment was something that didn't feel good, not in the way that Evelyn's execution had. As much as I hated to admit it, I almost felt like he hadn't been punished enough.

Sure, he'd been made factionless, and from what Rylan had reported, they weren't at all welcoming of him. They were probably still reeling from Evelyn's death, and the many promises that she hadn't and never would make good on. It was more than likely that he'd struggle and find no real support from them. But I couldn't bring myself to feel like he truly understood what he had done, and I felt somewhat odd that I wished the worst for him, more than just being factionless. I wanted him to feel like his wife and son had, like he meant nothing in this world.

Eric had listened when I told him, finally assuring me that they'd be keeping a careful watch on Marcus. He said there was no way they'd just let him wander around, free to take over for Evelyn if he could manage to round up any supporters. We knew Marcus was manipulative, but Eric was one step ahead of him. He'd already made sure Marcus was being tracked, explaining that before he'd been dragged out of Abnegation, a tracker had been implanted beneath his skin just like we had done with Peter when he was thrown out of Dauntless. If Marcus were to take a single step out of line, Eric would be able to remotely put him in his place; he could even take his life if it became necessary.

I had felt immensely better once he told me that.

"After going over everything, I think you're set for today. Just make sure you're well aware of your surroundings at all times. Stay in the trucks until the last possible second. Listen to the men and women accompanying you and Eric. Don't wander off, and don't try to save the day. This is not the time for you to decide to practice your aim or remind us all what Eric taught you," Tori says with an admonishing tone.

"I won't," I promise her, and I stare at her for a second. "Are you thinking something will happen?"

"No, I think absolutely nothing will happen. But when it comes to you, strange shit seems to go down, and I just want you prepared. Last time you went for a visit, you wound up spending weeks in their hospital. I think Eric would prefer not to repeat that, especially not now."

"Right, I agree. But I was thinking…" I pause, and she looks wary. "Do you think both factions are possible in one day? Realistically? Or should I maybe space them out?"

Tori looks surprised at my question, and she looks at me critically, stalling to drink her tea.

"Are you alright?" she asks, her voice low and calm as she leans in closer, even though there is not a soul in this room besides her and me. "If you're not feeling well and you want to split them up, you can. I won't tell anyone that's why. We'll say you ran out of time. We can make sure you do both this week and no one will really care. We can even say your meeting with Cara ran over. Max just wants to know you went and spoke with them, and that they aren't going to continue to email him repeatedly."

I nod my head, staring at her coffee mug.

"I feel fine, just tired. But I can do it. I should be able to do both today. I was just thinking that time-wise it might be better to visit Johanna tomorrow…"

I trail off, trying hard not to sound like someone who's trying to get out of her job.

Because I'm not.

More than anything, I want to continue to work and prove to everyone, including myself, that I can do this, and that once and for all, I didn't get this job solely because of Eric. There's no way I want anyone to think I'll head home and sit on the couch all day. I know I can push through my exhaustion, my cranky mood swings that have been popping up, and my desire to just lie down with Eric and forget about everything else.

I know exactly what's on my plate: Johanna and Cara have both sent their concerns, and they aren't anything I wasn't already expecting. Johanna is worried someone will try to sabotage their fields, mess with their water supply again, or take out her workers. The Amity fields are huge, spanning large distances that wouldn't be easy to monitor, not even with security cameras and routine patrols. Cara's concerns are slightly different, but no less important. She wants to make sure her labs stay safe, that the serums Evelyn had been messing with are no longer in existence, and that Erudite isn't targeted in any way — especially not by a reconstituted factionless army under Marcus's command.

I have answers for both of them, and I feel confident in my planned visits. My presence is meant to be reassuring, especially now. But I'm worried that maybe they won't feel any better after the meetings, though I want them to, all because I'm not feeling that great.

"You know what, I'll be fine," I promise her, recognizing the look of uncertainty on her face and despising it. "I'll grab a coffee or something along the way…"

"Okay," Tori answers slowly. "But it's up to you. I'll tell the squads to make sure you have your coffee, but if you start to feel bad, we'll head back here. Don't stress about this. It won't be the end of the world if it takes an extra day. Really, the threat level is very low right now."

"I can do this. I was just thinking maybe I should split it up. I could focus more on each one that way," I tell her, and I feel better that she doesn't seem to think it's a bad idea. I had no idea that I'd feel this exhausted just by the very idea of going, yet here I am, already tired and we haven't even left yet.

"Personally, I think you should push Amity out a few days, maybe even to next week. We can send a quick email to Johanna. On Friday, I'm heading that way with Eric to review the squads currently on rotation there. We can talk with her then if we need to."

She stops, her gaze falling to me again.

"You have more important things to worry about right now. I hope you realize this isn't entirely on you. We have an entire team of leaders to help you. Some don't even have anything on their schedules today other than a single meeting with Max. You've been doing far more than we've asked of you."

She smiles, and I relax a little. Maybe I didn't have to save the entire world just yet.

"Thank you, Tori," I answer, hoping she knows I mean it. I didn't plan to suddenly feel like this, but Four's words and Eric's worry are starting to become true. I felt fine this morning, nothing more than a little tired, as usual. But now I'm starting to feel less great and far less interested in traveling for hours at a time, though the idea of someone thinking I can't do my own job horrifies me.

"Anytime," she answers, turning to her laptop. "You can send Johanna a confirmation message, and I'll scope out things when Eric and I go. There's really no reason to do both in one day. I think Max was just being ambitious. He wouldn't even visit two factions in a day."

She begins to type away, rearranging my travel schedule, and I take a deep breath.

"Okay. Let's do Amity next week," I decide, relieved when she nods. "I'll email her now."

I smile brightly as I try to ignore the fact that this might be harder than I'd anticipated.

 

 

The rest of my morning is wonderfully quiet.

I take a break with Tori, well aware that she seems to be keeping a close on eye me after our talk. I promise her that I'm fine, making a show out of sitting beside her and Linda to have some fruit, enjoying the calmness in the air.

Twenty minutes later, I return to my office, working on an email that I'd meant to send out to the people we invited to Tris's baby shower. I'd made the decision that the baby shower was canceled, because there's no way in hell Tris would want all these people over, gawking at the baby and bringing their germs around.

I decide to email everyone and ask that they simply drop their gifts off at their new apartment so as to not disturb them. The remainder of my email says that once things have calmed down, we will celebrate. Maybe we'll have a fun dinner or something, but not now. I feel good about these new plans since it seems like the perfect solution to my dilemma, and I feel pretty smart as I click send.

"Hey, so uh, what does a baby like?"

"What?" I look up from my computer, keeping one eye on the clock. Eric and I are scheduled to leave at one, and it's almost twelve-thirty. I don't feel entirely ready to go, but I'm sort of excited to get out of Dauntless for the day. "What do you mean...?"

"The baby. Four's baby. What does he like? I got your email. It said to drop off our gifts at their apartment, but I don't quite know what I should get a baby. I'd send Christina, but I don't want her to spend my entire check on tiny shirts."

Rylan pauses, then smiles widely.

"Don't worry. I'll get my godson something better. I just need to know what you think they need. Eric said I should get him socks."

"Dang that was fast," I mutter, and Rylan looks at me in confusion. "I just sent that."

"I know," he answers, shoving his hands in his pockets. "And I just read it. So, what should I get them?"

"Well," I click out of my email, shutting down the computer completely. "Anything, really. He probably needs shirts. But they would probably be happy with whatever you get them. Didn't Christina unpack their stuff?"

"Yeah, she said they didn't really buy a lot. But Christina's definition of a lot is different than everyone else's, so who knows?"

He grimaces, and I can only imagine the fit she pitched when she saw the minimal amount of baby stuff Tris had bought.

"You could always order some meals for them for when they're home. I had Quinten make a few so they don't have to cook. But I'll probably run down to the stores tomorrow to pick up an actual gift. Christina told me there's only one place here that has clothing for infants, but she did say the stuff wasn't very cute."

"Dunno. I've never been in there, but I'll have her go. Maybe they'll have something grey and only sort of ugly in the store. Or that one guy can make something — the one who designs the uniforms. Maybe a small uniform."

"Christian?" I recoil in horror, just imagining Rylan using the opportunity to also place an order specifically for his godson. "Don't go see him. He's really busy and he hates children. Have Christina look around; I'm sure she'll find something. And I doubt Tris and Four will be picky."

I stop, and suddenly it hits me like a ton of bricks, just exactly what Rylan should do.

"Wait, I know what you can get her!" I blurt out before he can set his mind on anything. "You have a free afternoon, right?"

"Yep. I'm overseeing things while Eric's gone, and Jason is checking out all the new security cameras. Max is off doing God knows what with Arlene. So really, I have nothing planned. Why?"

"Can you leave Jason in charge?" I ask, standing up and grabbing my things. "Just for a little bit?"

"Jason. You want me to leave him in charge of…the entire faction? Or just…the office?" Rylan stares at me like I've lost my mind. "Actually, you know what? Neither of those are good options."

"The faction. I think Linda can handle the office. But trust me on this. It'll be easier than getting pink fireworks, and you'll be Tris's favorite person ever."

Rylan still doesn't look convinced, but he warily agrees, probably after the thought of sending Christina down to the stores with his card becomes too much to bear. "Alright, fine. But if this plan backfires and Dauntless burns down, this is all on you."

"Deal," I agree, smiling widely at him.

 

 

 

"Do you have your access card, Miss?"

The guard squints at me like he's never seen me before, despite the fact that I'm pretty sure he was in Four's class at the same time I was in Eric's. He squints again as he reads my card, looking up to examine my face, then back down at the card.

"Do you have any other form of identification on you?" he asks, looking at the card one more time as if he really needs to make sure.

"Um, no. I only have one card. That's me. That's my picture." I sound more than confused as I answer him, my own stare falling to the card in his hand. The photo is definitely me, with the name Everly Coulter printed across the top of it and a less-than-flattering photo of me beneath it. Eric had graciously let me redo the original one in which I'd sneezed, but this one wasn't anything spectacular. "I had a really bad haircut when they took that."

"I'm not convinced this is you. The person in this photo looks taller than you," the guard informs me, and I tilt my head to the side, trying hard to remain very patient.

"You can't possibly know how tall I am from my ID photo," I point out, but he shakes his head.

"My orders are to carefully monitor who comes in and out of here, and I'll need a second form of ID, per Eric," he blandly answers, handing me the card back. "Sorry, Miss, but you can't leave with the patrol squads unless I see the proper paperwork that Eric requires."

"Eric is my husband. Eric Coulter? I'm Everly Coulter. Stop pretending you don't know me. You and I were in the same class. You know who I am." Beside me, Jason snorts and I have to stop myself from putting my hands on my hips. "You're aware that Eric is married, right? To me? I have access to leave, seeing as how I'm required to go for my job. And you can stop calling me 'Miss'."

"Sorry, Ma'am. I don't remember you being in my class, but that's beside the point. I'm still not sure this is you, and I can't just have you walking through these gates without proper clearance."

"It's definitely me. I just said I was in Eric's class when you were in Four's," I answer him slowly, and this time Jason can't stop himself from laughing.

"Ease up, dude. She's clear. She doesn't need to show you any more ID. She's on the list." He helpfully steps in between the guard and me, gesturing at what I can only assume is a memo with the approved names. "Coulter and Coulter. Right there. Look, I know Eric told you all to be extra thorough, but you're holding up the person that we're all supposed to be leaving with."

The guard looks at me again, still with no real recognition on his face, but he finally shrugs and waves us through without even checking Jason's ID.

"Fine. Proceed, Miss."

"Is he serious?" I ask Jason, ignoring the way he snickers when the guard moves on to stop the men behind us, quizzing them over their ID numbers.

"Sorry, Miss Coulter. Eric takes your safety pretty seriously."

I should have known that leaving Dauntless would become quite the event.

No longer is it just Eric and me leaving for a run, or borrowing a truck and driving where Eric needed us to go. It's now full of guards, patrolmen, Jason and his enthusiasm for life, and several exit points that seem to require a keycard from every single one of us.

I walk out of Dauntless with Jason glued to my side. He's gleeful that he's been left in charge, and to celebrate, he holds my coffee in one hand and my papers in the other. I protested that I'd be fine carrying it myself, but he vehemently refused, citing that Eric is walking with Max and thus it's the least he can do. Truth be told, I'm glad Eric is distracted. I've been ready for him to call the entire thing off and say he'll deal with it himself, but he hasn't gotten the chance.

Yet.

"What's in this, by the way? Whiskey?" Jason asks as we walk through the large entryway, past the patrol guards, and out into the cold, bright sunlight.

"Close. Vanilla," I grin, wishing I'd listened to Eric's lecture on the weather. I neglected to bring any sort of jacket, and it's much colder than I was expecting. "You can try it if you want."

I keep my eyes on the guards in front of us. Eric slows down as he walks at the very front of the group of soldiers, paying little attention to them and instead barking orders at the drivers. He sounds edgy, though they seem to think nothing of it. I watch while he yells at someone for arriving late, and just when I think we'll be leaving soon, Karl appears beside me with a group of men, all taller than me, all heavily armed and wearing all black armor.

"Next set of trucks," Eric barks, and I can tell he's growing more irritated by the second. "Keep moving, everyone. These are going to Candor."

We continue around to the side until we stop in front of the line of trucks waiting for us. They look intimidating, the Dauntless logos freshly repainted on the sides and the men standing around them. Glancing at them, I feel like we're set to go into battle. He's gathered enough men that it appears we're expecting an attack, though really, we're simply heading one faction over.

Eric and I lock eyes when he stops somewhere near the bumper of the second truck. He doesn't smile; he just stares at me as I stand there in a dark dress, surrounded by men with more guns than I can count. He glances at me, the barest hint of something behind his stare, and I smile up at him.

It takes a second, one heartbeat too long, before he finally smiles back.

"Everly, over here."

"Should I tell him I was thinking I'd drive myself?" I joke to Karl, who laughs as he walks with me, taking Jason's place.

"I'm sure he'd go for that." He snickers. "He's been prepping everyone for this all week."

"I'm sorry," I tell him sincerely. I can only imagine the reign of terror Eric has brought down upon them. "He means well."

I ignore the whispers of the men around me, all men who've probably never ever seen him smile. Jason talks with a few of them, casually leaning back on his heels, waving as I head over to Eric. I reach to take Eric's hand and he opens the door for me.

"Half hour until we're there. We expect no delays." Eris stares at me, his tone clipped and short, until I'm in the truck. Then he leans in, kissing the side of my head and letting his head rest against mine for a minute.

"You sure you're good to go?"

I nod, keeping my fingers still on his, ignoring the desire to have him take me back home, back to our apartment, just the two of us. I've decided that these are the last two trips I'll be making, and I want to make sure I finish them out the best that I can.

"I'm sure. I'm fine. And hey, don't worry. This might end up being fun," I tell him, and he snorts.

"Oh, yes. I'm sure it will," he mutters, distracted when the first driver calls out that they're ready to leave. "Sit tight, Amity."

Though I shouldn't have expected anything else, it takes me a second to realize he'll be driving me, along with twelve other men who fill in every inch of free space. They are silent as he walks around, throwing one dirty look at all of them through the windshield, until he's around to the driver's side of the truck. He signals Jason, who's grinning joyously as he watches us leave, before climbing in and starting up the truck without another word.

"1:32 is the expected arrival time. All trucks are cleared for departure with proper security clearance."

Someone radios us, the sound echoing in the cabin, and Eric gives a sharp reply, irritable at being two minutes late. He's fairly quiet as the truck in front of us pulls away, and I watch in the mirror as Dauntless grows small enough that I can't see it anymore, until it's a blurred speck on the mirror, and then it's gone completely.

 

 

"Have a seat over here, Everly. Now that we're done with all that other stuff, I want to ask how you're feeling?"

Cara takes the seat across from me, neatly arranging herself on the stiff white chair. Her office is brightly lit, the blue sconces gleaming to perfection, and the large windows are spotless. Everything in here seems perfect. She looks well put together, her blonde hair neatly pulled up and back, her dress pristine and her nails perfectly polished. I can't help but feel a little underwhelming sitting across from her, trying not to appear like I'm as pregnant as I feel.

"I'm great, thank you. I've been tired and sort of…over being pregnant. But I'm good." I grin at her. She smiles, really smiles, and leans back, still keeping her perfect posture. "I can't wait until the baby's born."

"I'm sure," she tells me, her stare falling to my stomach for a moment. "I have to confess something to you, and please don't think I'm rude. I've never been overly fond of children. My brother has always been the most annoying person on the planet, and as a result, I swore I'd never have any kids myself. But I've found myself rather impatiently awaiting the birth of your child."

She confesses the words to me before taking a sip of her tea. "I think my reasoning is that Eric is so… Eric, and you are so not like Eric, that I find the thought of your baby to be rather interesting. I keep wondering how Eric will handle being at the mercy of an infant. He doesn't seem to take orders very well."

I can't help but smile at her curiosity.

"He's in for a real surprise," I tell her. "Did you know he's planning to have the baby here? With an entire floor to ourselves? He's made it pretty clear that he doesn't want the baby born anywhere but in Erudite."

Cara looks pleased, dropping her head for just a moment to tap at something on her phone.

"We do have the best medical facility out of all the factions. You'd be in the best hands here," she declares. "I mean, your infirmary is fine. I've met Arlene several times, and I know Daniel has a personal interest in your child and won't let him be born anywhere that isn't safe. But here, we are prepared for anything that could possibly go wrong."

Her words spark an unfortunate flash of fear in me.

"I'm hoping nothing will go wrong. I mean, I think everything is fine."

"Of course. I don't mean to worry you, Everly. I often joke that they dropped my brother on his head, and he was born here. I just meant that if something were to happen, you'd more than likely be brought here. But if you were to plan to give birth here, then you'd already be here…" Cara gestures towards the direction of the hospital, still smiling.

"I know I'd be in good hands. It's funny, everyone has pretty strong ideas for where the baby should be born. I'm sure my mother would love to have the baby born in Amity," I tell her, hating that I sound wistful; it's ironic, since giving birth in Amity wasn't anything I'd ever wanted.

"Eric's child being born in Amity — now that's a hilarious thought," Cara answers, graciously accepting a muffin from her assistant. The girl brings the tray of muffins over to me, and I pick one up with zero intention of eating it. "I feel like Eric in Amity has to be a rather interesting sight."

"He certainly doesn't blend in very well."

I feel defensive as I think back to all the times Eric stormed through the fields, looking incredibly out of place. His dark uniform stuck out amongst the greenery, and his scowl looked harsh when you compared it to the grinning Amity folk behind him. I have a very specific memory of him, which is odd, considering that at the time my memories were nonexistent, but it was the very first moment I saw him after being dumped there by Evelyn. I stood before him in nothing but my nightgown, barefoot, my baby brother squawking about trucks while Eric reached for me, pulling me against him in complete and utter desperation, stunned that he had found me alive and breathing.

"Oh, I bet he causes a ruckus wherever he goes. Look, there he is now. He looks…actually, he looks really annoyed."

Cara tilts her phone at me to reveal a live feed from a security camera. The grainy footage is from the first floor, right in front of the receptionist desk. I stare at it for a moment, a burning feeling consuming my insides the longer I stare. I suddenly feel ill, a wave of nausea washing over me, strong enough that I close my eyes and try not to swallow.

"I uh… Cara, you know what, I should be going."

I fumble with the muffin, trying to politely excuse myself. This meeting had been going just fine, but I need to get out of here, right this very second.

"Everly?"

"I'm sorry," I apologize for being rude, trying hard to smile at her. This is a strange and awful feeling, one that makes my eyes sting. "I'm glad you feel good with all the security measures. I'll uh…I'll send you the…the follow-up emails. I think everyone will be fine."

"Of course. Are you alright, Everly?"

I nod, unsure of how to explain why I need to go. She can't be completely clueless to the sight before her, but maybe she is.

"Thank you for having me today. I will keep you updated on things." I stand up, reaching for the papers I'd brought and trying not to drop everything. "I just need some fresh air."

"Sure. You know what, let me walk you out," Cara announces, concern flashing across her face. "I don't want you walking alone. I'd like to make sure the truck is here this time."

She looks thrown off as she stands up, smoothing her dress down. My abrupt departure must seem strange, I'm sure. But I'm not about to throw up all over her pristine floors, nor will I be able to sit here and think clearly while we make small talk. She reaches for me, grasping my arm and walking with me towards the door, even though it's unnecessary. I immediately feel better when we step into the hallway, her heels clacking on the floor. It seems like it takes ages for us to reach the elevators, and even longer for them to open up to the lobby floor. She follows after me, and I wish she'd let go of my arm.

"I will see you soon, Everly. Please keep me posted on the baby. I'd love to know when—"

She stops dead in her tracks when I do.

"Oh," Cara says, turning back to face me, her eyes wide. "Everly, is he not waiting for you?"

I can't answer her. I have no clue where Eric is going or why he's leaving. All I know is that I nearly vomit right then and there when I see him walk out through the glass doors, leaving a very pleased-looking Ashley behind to watch him stalk off, her back to me, and mere feet from where I'm standing.

 

 

I'd prided myself on mostly forgetting about her.

Eric had told me the few scant details about Ashley that he had deemed necessary; admitting he'd slept with her right up until my training, swearing it was never the same as it was with him and me, and often tersely expressing that he never truly cared for her. Even when he didn't want to, he'd told me the truth, confessing that what happened between them was nothing, and swearing it could never measure up to us.

From the very beginning, I could tell he wasn't lying. When I thought back on it, all of our nights together unfolded in a way that Ashley could only have dreamt of. I'd gotten what she wanted. I had lived with him my entire time in Dauntless, spent my nights pressed against him for so many more reasons than just staying warm, and I existed beside him when no one else did. I knew his daily routine, I wore his shirt to bed, I brushed my teeth beside him, and I saw the human Eric, the one behind the man storming through Dauntless.

I knew the Eric that existed beneath the heavy uniform, and it was the one that Ashley didn't know, no matter what she thought. I had never expected him to be any sort of Prince Charming, but what I got was an Eric who loved me the same hopeless way that I loved him. He had liked me at my worst, at my fumbling through his training and falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion while he was cooking me dinner. He liked me at my crankiest and most defiant, and he liked me in the easiest, quietest moments the two of us had shared.

I eventually learned that he loved me dressed not in dark clothes or with wild hair, but as Everly. He never asked me to be nice or to stay quiet, and he certainly never doubted me. He never wished for me to be anyone else, never once asked me to stop making him eat outside in the sunlight, or to take my hands out of his hair. He loved me for who I was, without asking for anything more.

She would have killed for that.

I knew she had wanted him, badly, and still did. And while she had been a part of Eric's life before, really, she was none of my business. She may still be lusting after what could have been, but it wasn't anything I needed to concern myself with. I didn't own Eric's life prior to me arriving in it, and I couldn't fault him for being involved with her.

She might have seemed nasty and cunning, but she had happened, and I respected that.

Despite that sobering realization, the very sight of her makes me irrationally mad. I hadn't expected to see her here, or ever again for that matter. After Jeanine's execution, Ashley was put on trial for her part in the crimes, and Eric had left it at that. I'd never questioned what happened to her, never really wanted to know, because she was never a threat to me. She must not have been involved deeply enough, for she was clearly still working somewhere in Erudite; judging by her appearance, she was doing just fine.

"Everly, are you okay?"

Cara says my name at just the right second, and Ashley turns to see me there before her. When her eyes land on me, they light up in pure and utter delight, and I know without a doubt that this isn't going to end well.

She stalks over to me, her blonde hair long and perfectly wavy, her blue eyes fixed on my stomach. I notice that she still looks flawless, the very same Ashley that cornered me in the bathroom at the Leadership Dinner, reminding me that Eric would never love me. The sight of her now, in her pristine and far-too-tight dress makes me feel downright furious. I try to ignore it, remembering that she is going to try to piss me off and to not give in. But it isn't long before she's right here, her head cocked to the side and a fake smile fixed upon her face.

"Everly," she drawls, blinking once. She's still pretty, though more bitter-looking, and unfortunately, very much alive.

"Well, don't you look different than the last time I saw you." She pauses, reaching out to touch the sleeve of my dress, and I try not to recoil. "Here you are, in this pretty little dress that's so fancy. It's nice to see that Eric finally got you to break away from wearing your finest Amity clothes and turned you into the type of woman he's always liked. Did he have to burn your other clothes so you'd stop wearing them, or did he just throw them out while you were sleeping?"

"What are you doing here, Ashley?" I ask, keeping my voice even and my eyes on her. I refuse to let her get to me, and I despise that I'm now wondering if Eric had these dresses made purely because he did hate my other clothes.

I try to breathe normally, reminding myself that isn't the case at all.

"What am I doing here? Poor thing. That memory serum really did a number on your brain, didn't it?" She smiles even wider, revealing her blindingly white teeth along with her crappy involvement in the worst time of my life. "I work in the offices the next building over. I've been working for Blythe for a while now."

I try to smile.

Fantastic.

Two people who can't stand me, together in one office. I can only imagine the sort of things they talk about.

"I came here to drop off some files, and I ran into Eric. It's not every day I see him prowling around here, at least not anymore. I have to admit, I got a little thrill at the sight of him in his uniform. Reminds me of the days when he'd walk up to my apartment, ready to take it off."

I stay perfectly still.

"I mean, I always did like him better out of his uniform."

"Then seeing him must be awful for you," I tell her, cocking my own head to the side to mirror her. "Because I know it would certainly make me feel a little shitty. Knowing that he's here, but that he's not coming around to see you anymore."

It wasn't what I meant to say, but the words are out of my mouth before I can think them through. She blinks a few times, and my words have clearly hit a nerve, because her smiles cracks.

"You know what, Everly. I know you think you're so smart because you think you got him. That you and him and this…this baby will be a happy little family. But guess what, pumpkin? This isn't Amity. He's not gonna sit on your front porch and watch the sunset with you while you grow old together. At the end of the day, he's still Eric. Vicious, mean, life-taking Eric, who's always despised everyone from Amity. You might have lasted this long, but he's not in it forever." She pauses to flip an imaginary stray piece of hair off her shoulder. "He'll leave you soon enough, and then he'll be right back here, with me."

"I'm glad you're still holding onto some hope," I answer her dryly, wondering if she'll step aside and let me continue on my way. "Everyone should have a dream, I guess."

"Funny," she snaps, stepping even closer to me. "Tell me, how many sleepless nights do you think he's going to put up with? How many hours of your little brat crying will he sit through? How many days will he last, when you can't stand for him to touch you because your precious little gremlin needs your attention?"

She stops, making sure I'm looking right at her.

"How long before he loses interest in a wife whose main focus is the baby she forced him to have, without proof that it's even his own child."

"I see Blythe has been sharing her theories with you. I'm not sure if that was ever a concern between you and Eric, but rest assured, it's definitely his baby." I stare back, wondering why on Earth she's so hateful. She doesn't appear to be capable of loving anyone or anything, so I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around just what she wants.

"Listen here, little girl. We both know he had his fun with you. I'm willing to overlook him sleeping with you because it'll all be over soon. We all know he's not exactly father material. I mean, how many times did your father work for one of our leaders, helping them come up with ways to pick off the unwanted people in our population? How many people's lives did your father sign away, all in hopes of saving his own ass? I'm sure that'll make a good bedtime story for your obnoxious little spawn, now won't it?"

I tilt my head at her, pretending to contemplate her words while deciding I have two options here.

First, I could punch her in the face. That's the most preferable, but the least practical. I don't need to cause a scene, especially when I'm about to go home with Eric. Getting upset would only prove that there might be some truth to her words.

My other option, and this one makes me grit my teeth, is to ignore her and to move on. To leave her behind, in Erudite, knowing full well that Eric and I will grow old together, even if we don't have a porch. To stop myself from reacting, even though my racing heart is betraying me with every second I stand here. To enjoy the fact that I will be leaving her to wallow in her own delusional ideas and self-pity while I continue back to my home with Eric.

"I see you've forgotten who Eric really is. Sorry, little farm girl. I'm sure someone in Amity would be happy to welcome you and your child into their home. Or maybe if you're lucky, some lowly guard will take you both in."

As much as it pains me, I decide to take the high road, because really, Ashley is no one to me and she never will be.

"You know, I'm sorry he hurt you. I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted from him. I'm sorry you're holding on to what you can't have. I'm sure I would feel the same way if I were in your shoes."

"What did you say? Did you say you're sorry?" She balks at my words and her face changes to surprise. "What the fuck are you talking about? You think I didn't get what I wanted? Or that I won't? Because I most certainly will."

"No, you didn't, and you never will. Because I know that he loves me. I've been married to him for years now. He didn't pick you to marry, he chose me. He always has and he always will. I'm sorry you can't accept that."

Her face grows dark, and I have to admit I get a rush of satisfaction when I see that anger is an ugly look on her.

"He'll leave you, you stupid little—"

"I'm going to say this as nicely as possible: fuck off, Ashley. Don't bother us again. Although really, it was great to see you, I have to get going. I hope you find what you're looking for. And please, tell Blythe I said hello." I gracefully step to the side of her, walking past her. I have nothing else to say to her, and truth be told, she doesn't deserve another second of my time.

Too bad she doesn't agree.

I feel her grasp the back of my hair, her fingers gripping the long strands that I'd stupidly left down, and she yanks me backwards, as hard as possible. I stumble for a second, thrown off balance on the slick floors, as she does her best to yank me even closer.

"I hate you. So. Fucking. Much. Why did it have to be you?"

She loses her cool as she yells the words, trying hard to really dig her nails into my scalp and neck, but her attempt is sloppy and ill-executed. She has no real leverage in her heels, and because I am off balance anyway, I wind up stumbling to the side, my cheek smacking right into the edge of the desk as the receptionist stands up in surprise.

"Hey, are you okay?" the young girl asks, her voice filled with panic. I would bet all my points she's never seen anything like this before, especially when she fumbles with the phone in her hand.

"Yes, I'm fine," I hastily tell her, pressing my palm to the spot I'd just hit. The wave of pain is more startling than anything, especially considering all that I've been through. I'm able to steady myself, because Ashley has let go, and her mouth falls open when I finally turn to look at her.

"Oh shit, oh shit… Everly? Are you alright? Everly?" She's staring at me in pure horror, the realization that she's just physically attacked me dawning on her. It must feel even worse that it didn't pan out the way she wanted. "Everly, say something!"

I stare at her stupidly, my hand still on my cheek, because I just said I was fine. My cheek is starting to hurt, but it's nothing serious. I find myself shocked that she'd be so thoughtless as to do something like this, and even more shocked that Tori's prediction came true.

"Why? I ask her, but she shakes her head furiously, as though trying to deny it happened. "Why would you do that? Were you hoping you'd kill me? Because that's not how you kill someone."

My voice takes on a hint of sarcasm, but it goes over her head.

"Everly… no, I… I didn't mean…"

"It's fine. I'm alright." I put one hand up to stop her from taking another step towards me, and I can see her breathing increase as though she's the one who's been attacked. "Just… stay away from me, okay. I don't think either of us has anything else that needs to be said."

"Ma'am, are you alright? Did you hit your head?"

My worst nightmare comes true when I'm suddenly surrounded by people, their attention focused solely on me. Cara is back, probably having never really left, shoving through the security guards and past Ashley. She knocks my hand away, pressing her cold palm to my cheek, her own blue eyes wide in surprise. I can see a guard fumbling with Ashley, holding onto her arm to prevent her from running, and several people yelling to call for the Dauntless guards that accompanied me here. I want to tell Cara to relax, that this is nothing and that I want to go home. I want to find Eric and leave before this escalates into something more.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as I think of Tori's words, how something strange always happens to me, and I want to cringe because I did nothing more than walk away. This feels grossly unfair. I didn't want to fight with someone who doesn't deserve a speck of my time, but I certainly hadn't expected to be attacked.

"She's okay," Cara announces unnecessarily, shaking her head and finally taking a step back so I can breathe. "I'll take her to Daniel. Have Ashley taken to the security office."

"I have to go. I have a meeting…" Ashley stumbles, trying to yank her arm away. "She said she's fine. I have to be back at the office… I have…"

"You didn't even apologize to her," Cara firmly points out, her voice taking on an edge I've never heard before. "You attacked her and you need to rectify this. This is not how we act towards our guests."

"She's not a guest," Ashley snaps, temporarily forgetting what she did. "And she's fine. She said so herself. It was an accident. I slipped and she slipped. Maybe you should check out what they've been cleaning these floors with."

"Apologize, now," Cara demands evenly, though Ashley doesn't get the chance.

"Forget an apology. Assault on an ambassador to the factions is a pretty big offense," one of the security guards informs the two of them, pausing briefly to glance at me, then back to Ashley. "You'll be coming with me. Rex, accompany them to the hospital. Radio ahead and make sure they're aware she's coming by. Tell them you'll be there within three minutes."

I try to protest, because really, I can see the Dauntless truck outside through the doors and I don't need to go to the hospital, I just need to go home.

"I didn't assault her," Ashley protests. "She attacked me."

Looking back on all of this, it seems fitting. One final scuffle with the final villain in my life.

"Ashley, you'll be dealt with when I get back. Everly, come on." Cara gently tugs on my hand, and I feel absolutely nothing as they drag Ashley away from me, her blue eyes pleading like I'd find a moment of grace to tell them to stop. I know her intent had been to hurt me, mentally and physically. I'm proud that I didn't give in to her, but I get a sinking feeling when I realize this means a few things.

"Everly," Cara says gently, and I accept that I have no other option here.

"Alright." I concede, following Cara. "I'm coming."

I can hear Ashley shrieking, loudly and unpleasantly, as they take her out through an unmarked door. I'm tempted to ask Cara what will happen to her; perhaps this means that Ashley might finally leave me alone now. But it also means that I will once again be meeting up with Eric in a doctor's office, with some form of head trauma, even if it is just my cheek.

This most certainly is not the factional security I'd come here to present.

"Everly, we're trying to radio Eric but he isn't answering. We'll call when we get there. Or we'll see if he's with Daniel."

Shit.

 

 

The light above me is blindingly white.

I screw my eyes shut until I can look down from it, opening them up only when I hear him speak.

"Everly."

"Hi, Eric."

I peer up at him from around his father and Cara, wondering exactly how to explain that his ex-girlfriend attacked me. Because right now, he looks unamused — somewhere between downright livid and slightly guilty. It's a weird look on him, and it's only made worse because he's stuck behind both Daniel and Cara, unable to get close to me. He violently glares at the back of Daniel's head as he stands there with his hands behind his back, forced to wait for one of them to move.

"Everly, are you dizzy at all?" Daniel asks for the third time, and for the third time, I shake my head no. He seems disappointed as he lets go of me, frowning at his inability to find anything exciting on my face. I'm trying to be polite as I sit here, but I have the sinking feeling that if he had his way, I'd never be leaving.

The security guard had been right when he said we'd be at the hospital in three minutes. After being attacked by Ashley, I was whisked into the Dauntless truck, where the guards and Cara joined us like we were on some strange field trip. Everyone was quiet as we headed straight to the hospital, the truck driver going unnecessarily fast considering this wasn't a life or death emergency.

It felt surreal as we drove, listening to the Erudite guards talk with the Dauntless guards, each one giving each other shit about who had better equipment. It was no time at all before we arrived, and I was rushed inside with the same urgency as the last time I was brought here.

Except this time, there was no bullet lodged near my spine, and I was fully conscious. I really could have gone home, needing nothing more than an icepack and my pajamas, but the frantic blur of Daniel and his staff thought otherwise. They encouraged me to change into a hospital gown, something I refused to do, and it took them a good ten minutes before someone finally agreed to find Eric.

I sat with Daniel and Cara while we waited for him.

Daniel had already looked at my cheek, sounding upset when he said it would probably bruise or at least be red for a few hours. He and I both knew it was nothing, and it certainly didn't warrant a hospital visit, but it wasn't long before he was pushing for all kinds of things I didn't really want or need; in-hospital care seemed ridiculous for such a minor incident. I knew he was doing this because he was worried, and if I flinched wrong, he'd probably use his authority to have me admitted.

I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I hugged him and rested my head on his chest for a moment, trying to distract him by talking about how good it was to see him and how much I'd missed him.

It sort of worked, except not in the exact way I'd hoped. He had changed tactics then, trying to find a reason that I might need to stay overnight.

"Everly…" Eric says my name again, his hands still clasped behind his back and a serious expression sliding onto his face. Daniel and Cara look up, both of them strangely unwilling to walk away just yet. Daniel flashes me a guilty look, and reluctantly takes a few steps away with Cara so they can talk amongst themselves, probably realizing Eric would physically move them out of the way if they didn't. Now, Eric stands before me, unmoving. I can see his jaw tighten when his gaze falls to the side of my face, but I smile anyway.

"It's nothing, Eric. I really just want to go home," I tell him, keeping my eyes fixed on his. "I'm fine. I'm not hurt. It was good to see your dad, and maybe we can invite him back with us for dinner, but I want to go back to Dauntless. I want to go lie down and take a nap and pretend that you didn't leave me standing there to deal with Ashley on my own."

The minute I say the words, my hand flies up to my mouth, and I wish I could take them back. This is one of the few times in my entire relationship with Eric when he flinches, and I regret my words immediately.

"I'm sorry, Eric. I didn't mean that."

"Everly—"

"Stop saying my name," I interrupt softly, and I have to swallow down the rising urge to cry. "Please. I know he's just trying to help, but I don't want to waste your father's time here. I had my meeting with Cara. It went fine, and I'll go to Amity later. Not today, but next week or something. Or maybe you can just go. I don't care. Just tell your dad I don't need an x-ray of my face or an IV or whatever else he's trying to order."

"Stop it," he finally barks, closing the distance between us. "Everly, knock it off. Daniel… he just wants to make sure you're okay."

"I said I'm fine. I didn't hit my head. I hit my cheek."

"I can see that."

"Then can we go?" I ask, and I have to look at the floor. He's too intense right now, taking up too much space, and if I look at his face, I'm going to cry. "Can we just leave—"

"I'm sorry." He says the words harshly, his voice echoing in the quiet hospital. "Everly, I'm sorry. I saw her, she made a few comments and I told her to go fuck herself and never speak to either of us again. She was mad and I left. I came here to meet Daniel. I didn't know your meeting was over or that you'd be going down there. I never in a million years thought she'd be stupid enough to try and attack you."

I finally look up at him, realizing he looks absolutely miserable. Vicious, but miserable.

"It's okay. I'm not mad. Just don't kill her," I tell him, knowing full well he's already contemplating it. "She's not worth it. She thinks… she thinks you'll go back to her, and you know what? Let her. Let her live in her own delusional world. I know that we're happy and you're happy, right? That we'll end up proving her wrong as she stays here, alone."

My voice sounds strangely high right now, and I know it's not just seeing Ashley or my face getting slammed into a granite countertop. It's the pregnancy, making my emotions run all over the place, and I take a shaky breath to try and calm myself down.

"What did she say to you?" he demands, and I don't have the heart to repeat the terrible things she wanted me to hear.

"It was nothing new. The same stuff she's said to me before. That you'll leave me eventually." I unwilling share one detail, but he doesn't look convinced.

"Eric, please. Can we go home?"

He stays silent. He leans forward, placing his palm on either side of me. He bends in until his forehead touches mine, and he inhales slowly.

"Everly, I don't… I can't…" Eric loses his sense of eloquence and pauses for a few seconds. "I can't even begin to tell you how badly I want to hurt her. I want to rip her limb from limb, to throw her from the highest point of the train tracks and watch her skull smash into the ground below. The only reason I haven't left to do exactly that is because you've asked me not to."

"She's not worth the effort," I whisper, praying no one is eavesdropping right now. "Eric, please, can we just go? You could lie down with me."

I reach up to touch his face, my fingers sliding over his cheeks and into his hair. He swallows heavily, nodding his head against mine.

"If that's what you want, then yes. But Daniel's soul is going to be crushed if he can't keep you here overnight. Or for the next month."

His attempt to lighten up the mood makes me laugh, but it's the kind of laugh that comes when you feel sort of hysterical, and also because I know he isn't really joking. I pull Eric closer to me, until he's as close to me as he can get, and I close my eyes.

"Tell him thank you, but I'm sure. I'll come stay for a month after the baby is born, or something. We can all stay if you'll agree to it."

Eric nods again, and I focus on the feel of him, his warm skin and the way he smells, rather than the sterile disinfectant and cold hospital bed.

"Are you sure you're okay? You promise me? You don't feel weird or anything?" he asks me very quietly, and I shake my head one final time.

"Promise. No head trauma, and I can remember everything — including who you are, and that you owe me a night in and the last of those wizard books. I need to know if they ever kill the bad guy or not."

It takes a minute, but I finally feel him smile against me, his grip intensifying until a nurse comes back, telling him his father wants to see him. He waves her off, and when he looks at me, he smiles tightly. "Well, this is one instance where it feels wrong to tell you that they do," he says, his voice low and serious. "But they do win and everyone lives happily ever after. Or something like that."

I loop my arms around his neck, staying there until the nurse crankily tells Eric that his father is waiting.

He reluctantly untangles himself from me, vanishing around a corner where I can hear quiet —then not-so-quiet— arguing, and five minutes later, he takes me home.

 

 

"You really ought to consider staying. I think that you should take a break, and the two of you can come stay with me. I told you, I have plenty of space and enough extra rooms. I'm not really there during the day, and Camille said she'd be happy to stay with you if Eric has work to do."

I smile over at a scowling Eric while I recline back on the couch and pull my knees up. It feels like the old days when I used to sit here, trying hard to stay awake while Eric made dinner and thought of ways to make me prove how Dauntless I was. Except now, Daniel is here, and rather than Eric making dinner, Quinten dropped something off for the three of us that Eric is currently plating.

"I always have plenty of work to do, but no one needs Camille hanging around." Eric stares at us from the kitchen, and I motion for him to join me on the couch. He looks at Daniel once, then nods at me.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Daniel came back to Dauntless with us.

He promised me he had no patients that needed any urgent care, and that his new assistant could handle things for him. Eric had encouraged him to come with us, and it only took half a second for him to agree. Daniel looked out of place in the truck, his blue jacket foreign against the dark seats. His eyes remained fixed on the view through the windshield as Eric tried to drive less aggressively down the uneven roads. I had simply sat there, wondering what would happen to Ashley. Maybe they'd sentence her to something where she would have nothing to do but sit and think about Eric, and I'd found myself hoping that would be the case.

"Everly, want anything else?" Eric asks from the kitchen, and I shake my head no.

I had told Eric I wanted to take a nap, but sitting beside him and Daniel was a much better alternative. Once home, I'd changed quickly, then flopped down beside Daniel and listened to him talk about Blythe. He told us how he'd run into her at the coffee shop a few times now. He said she looked busy and annoyed, and she always pretended he didn't exist. He then mentioned Camille, several times, much to Eric's chagrin.

Now, he's offering us a place to stay, in the event that we want to get away. I know he's well aware of the workload that both of us have, but to be honest, I'm not really thinking about that. I'm thinking about Eric and the way he'd stayed mostly silent on the way home, his fingers wound tightly through mine. I tried to stop him from blaming himself, and regretted asking him why he'd left since he'd had no way of knowing I would be leaving at the same time. His shoulders had crept up when I told him I saw him on the security feed.

"That's a really nice offer, but I'm fine, really. I think I'll just take a few days off. My next trip is to Amity, but I rescheduled it for next week. Really, with Marcus being factionless and everything calming down, I think things might actually stay quiet for a while."

Eric looks up at me from the kitchen, listening carefully. He walks over to Daniel and me, handing us both plates, but he doesn't look very happy.

"I do think things will stay quiet, which means there's really no need to go anywhere." He points out the obvious, but I shake my head firmly.

"There's not a single soul in Amity that wants to attack me. Besides, I want to see my friends. I want to see Sophia and Courtney before we have the baby, and I want to eat dinner with my mom. I promised Johanna I'd come by, and I'm not going to break that promise."

"I think what Eric's trying to get at is that no one expects you to be doing all this work," Daniel offers, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes. "You could easily take the next few weeks off and stay with me. Eric as well."

"That's really sweet of you to offer, but I couldn't do that," I answer him. "If you're free next week, though, maybe you could come to Amity with me. I'm sure my mother would love to see you."

Daniel tries hard to keep a straight face, but he looks like Eric whenever I come up with something he has zero interest in doing.

"That's…certainly a possibility. I'll see what I have on my schedule."

I try hard not to laugh, and out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of Eric smirking at me.

"I'm sure your mom would love Daniel snooping around all her witchcraft." He takes the seat beside me, still mostly dressed in his uniform. "Maybe she could slather whatever it was she sent all over him and see if he feels any different before he leaves."

I make a face, starting to crack up since the last time my mother saw Daniel, she'd been thrilled to discover that they both worked in the same field. In her mind, she was on the same level as the head neurosurgeon, though Daniel's work was just a little more complicated than hers.

"She means well," I tell him, and when I look over at Eric, he's grinning. Not even fake grinning, either.

"I'm sure she does." He slings one of his arms around me, and his fingers toy with the ends of my hair. I can tell he's about to say something important, because he tenses up against me. "You okay? Does your head hurt?"

"I'm still fine, Eric. I would tell you if I was feeling weird," I reassure him, ignoring Daniel's attempt to look like he's not listening. "She didn't really hurt me. I hit my cheek for a second. It was no big deal. Even better, I'm hoping this means she'll move on now."

Eric falls silent and Daniel examines his food intently. After a minute of no one speaking, I stab my chicken a few times, much harder than necessary.

"I know you said to leave her alone, so I will. But just know that I don't want to," Eric announces, and I turn to look at him.

"You don't need to waste one more second on her, Eric."

He nods his head, though I know he's fighting an internal battle not to go after her right this second.

"You know, I never really liked Ashley," Daniel announces, and I find myself feeling sort of smug for some reason. "I used to see her from time to time, and she always acted like she didn't have time to talk to me. One time, she even asked me why I was interrupting her lunch to say hello."

"That's rude." I take a bite of the chicken and swallow it down quickly. "Why would she do that? If she was so desperate to get Eric back, wouldn't she have wanted to win you over? Wouldn't that have helped her case?"

"No, it would not have. If she had a case," Eric snaps, and I can tell he's not enjoying this conversation at all. "She doesn't care about shit like that. She wouldn't have cared if Daniel dropped dead in front of her. You care, because you care about Daniel. Ashley is something else."

"I do care about Daniel," I announce, settling closer into Eric's side. "I just don't understand her at all. I hope she'll be happy, wherever she ends up."

"You don't have to understand her. She won't bother us again," Eric promises forcefully, pulling me closer still. "I told Cara to make sure she didn't see the light of day again."

"Does Cara have that authority?" I ask, and before Eric can answer, there's a knock on the door, then an angrier one a second later. "Who do you think that is?"

"It's probably the wrong apartment," Eric mutters, twirling my hair around his fingers. "Just ignore it."

The knocking continues, growing louder and louder, until it becomes banging on the door, but Eric and I continue eating.

"Wait, so does Cara have that authority? Or will they take her to Jack?" I ask Eric, and Daniel looks at both of us in confusion as the banging increases in intensity even more.

"Are neither of you going to answer the door? Whoever it is, they're still knocking," he tells us, setting his plate down. "Should I go answer it?"

"No."

Eric and I both answer at the same time, and Daniel stares at us.

"Whenever someone knocks on our door, it's never good news," I cheerfully tell him, setting my own plate down. "Every time we answer it, it's someone with something terrible to tell us."

Daniel looks at the door as the banging continues, then back at us. "Seriously?"

"Yes. One time it was Max coming to tell me Eric had been shot. But maybe this time it'll be Quinten back with dessert?" I sound hopeful, though I know that the chances of that happening are fairly slim. Quinten had looked pretty happy to be heading home.

"You got shot, Eric?" Daniel sounds surprised, and Eric rolls his eyes as the knocking persists.

"It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing. You got shot in the leg and shoulder. He was refusing medical attention, so they came and got me," I inform Daniel, standing up and stepping over Eric's legs. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him."

"Eric, why on Earth would you refuse—"

"It didn't seem necessary. I'm surprised Arlene didn't call to tell you," Eric shrugs. "But it was seriously nothing. I got a few stitches and slept it off."

"A gunshot wound is not something you sleep off," Daniel tells him, reclining back and pressing his fingers to his temples. "You never mentioned this to me. Actually, maybe Arlene did call. Maybe she left a message with Blythe. Because I feel like I would remember this. Maybe I should call her."

"It was forever ago. I'm sure it's healed by now," Eric dryly insists. "Everly, are you really answering the door?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking maybe it's Rylan. I sent him to—" I stop speaking when I open up our door mid-knock, surprised by the sight before me. "Oh, hi, you're definitely not Rylan."

"No, I am not Rylan, Everly Coulter."

An exhausted-looking Four greets me by saying my name slowly, with as much malice as one brand new, sleep-deprived father can manage. I take in his messed up hair, the tired expression on his face, and the handful of people behind him. Really, it's more than a handful of people — it's closer to a good forty, milling around with their arms full, all trying to find a spot on which to leave their presents in the hallway.

But there's no room.

Every free space has been filled: both sides of his door, the opposite sides of the hallway, even down towards the elevators. It all spills over towards our front door, piling up high, all wrapped in interesting paper.

"What's going on out here, Four?" I ask, attempting to take a step into the hallway. "What is all this?"

"What's going on?" He raises his eyebrows at me, motioning to the gifts that are falling everywhere. "Have you lost your mind? I appreciate the thought, but are you seeing this? What are we supposed to do with all this?"

I reach for one of the presents from a pile that's stacked up taller than me, and I pull it down, examining it so I can read the handwritten note attached to the side.

Four and Tris, Congrats on the spawn. We were forced to buy you a gift, so here it is. This is the only special treatment you're getting from us. Best wishes - Jason and Megan.

"Four, this is…" I trail off when he shoves a gift at me, the black paper haphazardly wrapped around what I can only assume is some sort of baby clothing.

Dear Four and Tris, I was forced to get you this gift. I didn't want to buy it. Congrats on having sex. Don't hurry back. Lauren.

"Why was Lauren forced to get you a gift?" I look up from the paper in confusion, and Four, my good friend whose life I totally saved by being friends with his girlfriend and convincing her to take him back, has the audacity to glare at me.

"It's been nonstop. People started knocking when they realized there was nowhere left to put their gifts."

"What does this have to do with me?" I hand him the gift back, watching his eyes flick to Eric appearing behind me. I can feel Eric step close until my back is against his chest, and I hear more footsteps that tell me that right behind him is Daniel.

"Oh look, it's Four. I told you it was bad news," Eric calls out to his dad, and I hear Daniel attempt to greet Four anyway.

"Hey, Everly! Eric, what's up! I'm just stopping by to drop off my gift." I turn back and realize Karl is now here, still in his uniform, packages in hand. Karl's voice is the last I expected to hear, but he looks positively thrilled to be in the hallway, even amidst the mess of people. He misses Four's bleary look when Karl decides to personally hand him the oversized gift, and Karl winks at him.

"I'm sad the baby shower was cancelled, because Charlotte and I were looking forward to coming. But this is way better. The entire faction gets to celebrate this way."

"The entire faction?" I repeat, and I watch as Four glares at me again.

"Yeah, your email said everyone should bring their gifts…" He starts to say something, but I stare at him in horror as something dawns on me.

"Oh, shit!" I blurt out. "I sent it to the entire faction, didn't I? I meant to just send it to the guest list!"

"Yes. Yes you did, Everly. You sent it to the entire faction. And for the past three hours, they've been tramping through here, dropping off the gifts you told them to bring. I don't have enough space to store all this stuff!"

"You sound a little stressed out," Eric politely tells him, and I watch as Four's eye twitches.

"Every three seconds, someone is knocking. Wouldn't you be stressed out?" Four snaps, and I feel a flash of sympathy as a few more people walk up and hand him gifts. His hands are already full, and he looks like he could murder both Eric and me. "You need to tell them to stop."

"I'm sorry, but we're in the middle of dinner with a guest," Eric gleefully tells him, and his arms snake around my waist. "You'll have to just stand there and direct traffic yourself. Congrats again on reproducing."

I stare at the look on Four's face, the complete and utter despair as Eric pulls me back into the apartment with him.

"They can leave it with you two! They can knock on your door all night!" Four yells, but Eric slams the door shut.

"What's wrong with him?" Daniel asks, sitting back down on the couch and returning to his dinner. "It looks like a party out there."

"That's just his normal disposition," Eric answers, and I elbow him as we walk back the couch. "Nothing out of the ordinary there."

"It was my fault. I accidently emailed the entire faction and told them to drop off a gift for them. I just meant to send it to… like… ten people. But that does look like a lot of gifts," I point out, sitting back down in the same spot as before. "You know, maybe we should help him. All those people might wake up the baby."

"The baby?" Daniel's interest is piqued, but Eric is still unimpressed.

"Yep. Three days old," Eric announces, strangely knowing exactly how old Four's child is. "I'm sure he's not sleeping anyway."

He then turns to look at me as someone knocks on the door again, more enthusiastically than before.

"Everly, your best friend is back. Tell him to suck it up and accept the gifts. Now he's just being rude."

"This is my fault," I admit, and I stand up again. "I wouldn't want people knocking on our door all night."

"Maybe we can help him put them away?" Daniel offers, ignoring the withering stare from Eric.

The two of them talk for a minute, as Eric expresses a scathing desire to never help Four, and I head back towards our door, opening it up guiltily.

But not to Four.

And not to anyone dropping off a gift.

There before me, grinning brightly, stand Rylan and Natalie Prior.


	62. Coulter Coulter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you BK2U for editing this chapter! 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been following this story since the beginning. I'm a little sad to admit that we are so close to the end! After this, there is only one chapter left. 
> 
> Thank for following Eric and Everly all this time. Enjoy guys! Thanks for being patient :)

I lie with my feet up against the wall, the dark nail polish on my toes stark against my skin, and one hand on my stomach. Every so often, the baby kicks, reminding me that he's there and that he's quickly outgrowing his space. Eric lies next to me, his hands behind his head and his own feet propped up beside mine, having flopped down after staring in confusion at my position on his bed.

"You think Four got all his gifts put away? Or do you think he's still working on it?" Eric asks, sounding highly entertained as he settles in against the overly soft comforter I'd thrown on the bed. "And why on Earth are you lying like this?"

"I don't know, but it felt good," I tell him, grinning as he kicks my foot with his. I'd found this position to be oddly comforting, even though I wasn't supposed to be lying on my back. I'd been in the process of getting ready for bed, but I'd found myself too tired to do anything more than brush my teeth and change out of my clothes before collapsing here and staring up at our ceiling. "I would assume Four hasn't put away all those gifts because they seemed endless. The hallway was full of them, all the way to the elevator, and that didn't even include the ones he'd already been given."

"I'm sure he'll have plenty of time on his hands. He didn't seem to be doing much when he came over," Eric snickers.

When I peek over at him out of the corner of my eye, he's got his eyes closed and a very serene expression on his face. I drop my feet down and turn towards him, the movement far from graceful, until I'm on my side and looking at him.

"His misery really brings you great joy, doesn't it?" I tease, knowing full well that Four isn't totally miserable. Put out, sure. A bit irritated that he's got more gifts than he knows what to do with, maybe. But he can't be totally miserable with his mother-in-law now staying with him. At the very least, Natalie will help him organize things.

"Eric." I say his name, kneeing him in the side as he smiles widely, his eyes still shut.

"Yes, it does. It brings me immense joy. You have no idea. Almost nothing makes me happier."

I laugh at his response, reaching over to touch his arm. I trace the curve of his bicep, his skin under the short-sleeved, black t-shirt warm beneath my fingers, and he shifts closer to me.

"Leave him alone. He's a good friend, and I did accidentally ask the entire faction to bring them presents."

Eric makes some grunting sound in response, and I stare at the dark polish on my nails, neatly painted on by Christina, and I run my fingers up higher.

"I've been thinking about a few things lately. Especially since Tris had her baby. I think that our baby and Adam will be friends. Maybe for their whole lives," I tell him, knowing full well I'm pressing my luck, and he'll lose it in a second.

I'm right.

"Fuck off, Amity. No, they will not." He keeps his eyes shut, trying to ignore me.

"What are you going to do if they become best friends? They'll only be a couple of months apart, and we're the only other people on this floor that have a baby. We aren't exactly high on the list of potential play dates, either," I point out.

"How do you know that? Did you take a survey?" Eric barks and he swats halfheartedly at me. "Maybe Jason has a child. Have you ever asked him?"

"I know Jason doesn't have a child. He told me his morning routine in great detail while we walked out to the trucks. I'm talking minute-by-minute detail. Do you know he makes himself fresh-squeezed orange juice every morning? He said he hates the kind in the cafeteria."

"How fascinating. But no, I did not know that, and that doesn't have anything to do with a child," Eric answers dryly, but I can see him trying not to smile.

"I feel like he would have mentioned a child at some point during the time I've known him." I continue to touch him, remembering the first him he laid beside me like this, albeit the other way, and let me touch almost all the places I'd been curious about. He'd been content with my fingers on him, relaxed enough that he'd fallen asleep in front of me right in the middle of one of our longest training weeks.

It would soon become routine for us, this easy and quiet way for Eric to let me get close to him. Sleeping beside him had quickly followed, and it wasn't long before I found myself only sleeping in his bed, often on my own terms.

My nights with him had proven that it was far more intimate to sleep beside Eric than with him, for he was defenseless when he slept. I'd woken up countless times to his limbs over mine, arms around my waist and his head bent forward to rest against my own. He was needy when he slept, as though he were afraid I'd scamper away in the middle of the night, and I had to admit I found it endearing for someone who presented themselves as so tough.

"Eric, what if they have to compete against each other? Do you think—"

"Everly." He says my name slowly, finally opening up one eye. "I told you before. I try never to think about Four, and I'm going to try to never think about his spawn. Our children won't be friends. They'll be mortal enemies."

"You and Four aren't mortal enemies. Well, at least not now," I point out, sliding closer so I can touch his chest. "Besides, Adam and… whatever you're naming our child… might have to compete to stay here. Or what if he chooses another faction? What if he chooses—"

"Everly, get off me," Eric answers hotly, despite the fact that I am not on top of him. He scowls as he knocks my hand away and sits up, a dark look appearing over his face. It stays there for a moment as he stares at me, then relaxes to a slightly less lethal grimace. "If for some unfortunate reason they ended up friends, or if for some terrible reason our child chose another faction, we will deal with that at the time. It wouldn't be the end of the world. You and I both chose different factions."

"True," I tell him, stretching out and watching as his eyes follow my motion. "Maybe they'll both pick Amity. Can you imagine that?"

Eric raises an eyebrow at me, so high that it nearly disappears into his hair.

"Goodbye."

He climbs off the bed, ignoring my laughter at the ridiculous idea. I try to picture Eric and me heading to Amity to visit our son, followed by Tris and Four.

"I love you, too," I call out, knowing he isn't going far. He ignores me for a second, finally yelling out goodnight one more time before I hear the TV turn on in the living room. I settle back against the comforter and lie here for a few more minutes until I find myself falling asleep.

I wake up when I feel Eric picking me up, turning me around so my head is on my pillow and I'm lying in the right direction. He slides beneath the sheets, scooting close to me until his chest is against my back. I fall back asleep when his arm wraps around me, just like every night we spend together, just like every night we will spend together.

The baby kicks a few more times before I can only assume he also falls asleep.

 

 

"What about right here? Do you think you like it better on this wall?"

I look up from the pile of clothes I'm refolding to the sweet grin of Natalie Prior. She's currently balanced on a ladder, holding up a picture I'd been struggling to find a place to hang. The Erudite influence is heavy in it, the abstract painting streaked with black and blue, and there's no doubt in my mind that Eric gleefully picked it out when he ordered all the furniture.

"I do. Do you think it looks better there?" I stop myself from folding the clothes for the umpteenth time and finally put them in the drawer, satisfied at their perfect, uniform order. "I think I like it above the bookshelf more than above the crib. It's a little… fancy for a baby."

"I think so, too," Natalie agrees. "Let me grab something and I'll help you hang it up."

"Are you sure?" I ask her, scrambling to my feet and smoothing my dress down. "I don't want to keep you away from Tris and Adam."

"Don't be silly," Natalie answers cheerfully, gracefully stepping down from the ladder with ease. "They're both taking a nap. Adam sleeps for about three hours in the afternoon, and so does Tris. I thought Four could use a break from having me hanging around, and I'm happy to help you out."

She smiles as she sets the picture down on the bookshelf and glances around what was once my old bedroom.

It's hard to believe that just a week ago, this room was filled with Eric's paperwork and random boxes of things he'd saved over the years. It has been transformed overnight; gone is the lone bed that I spent quite a few freezing nights in, and in its place is an elegant and sleek-looking black crib. The dresser I had used has now been replaced with a black one that matches the crib, and even the closet doors have been taken off and repainted so they match, too.

What was once our guest room no longer feels cold and impersonal. It's starting to feel warm and inviting, if not a little fancy for an infant.

A few days ago, I awoke to Jason, Rylan, and Karl knocking on our door. They greeted me much too cheerfully for it being so early, but pushed past me and immediately headed to the room where the baby furniture was still in boxes. Twenty minutes later, the boxes were opened and unpacked, and by the time I was done with my shower, they had started to build the baby furniture. Joined by a casually-dressed Eric, they worked quickly, assembling everything with ease, all while knocking back a few cups of coffee. It was good to hear them laughing and joking, especially when they called me in to check things out.

The room looked so different than what I was used to that all I could do was smile at the sight before me.

We had never actively discussed what our baby's room should look like. I knew Eric was just waiting for me to announce I wanted to paint a forest on the wall, maybe one done by Forrest himself, or that I'd like to glue fake flowers to it in an arrangement of the Dauntless emblem. Or maybe I'd like the whole thing to be pink, regardless of the baby's gender.

I wanted none of those things.

Much like the baby's name, we never really spoke about our design preferences. Eric had said he'd take care of it, and he had. He'd chosen furniture that was all dark and like nothing I'd ever seen before. It looked too polished and slick, much fancier than my furniture at my parent's house, but I had to admit it was very nice.

I stood in the doorway watching as Eric casually leaned against the baby's crib, explaining something to Rylan about how his father thought the crib should be white. I don't think Rylan really cared about the color of baby cribs and Daniel's theory behind them, but he pretended to, probably so Eric wouldn't send him off on some assignment.

The sight of the mostly completed room should have made me feel at ease, but I was starting to feel behind on my list of things to do before the baby arrived. I'd purposely made myself not think about my pregnancy so it didn't take over my life. I'd grown up around women who did nothing but talk about their unborn babies, and I'd sworn that wouldn't be me.

With everything that's happened over these last few months, I'm lucky to be alive. I focused on myself and Eric, and as much as I hate to admit it, I've even found myself feeling like the pregnancy wasn't actually real.

But I know that will all change the minute he's born.

Which will be sooner than later.

The due date is creeping up on me, and in the back of my head I know it will be here before I'm truly ready. There are still boxes of baby clothes to be unpacked and put away, a sudden mass of baby toys that someone sent that need to be organized and stored somewhere, baby items to purchase — like these bottles that Tris swears by — and pictures to be hung. I want to get everything in perfect order while I still can, but at the rate I've been going, I'll be lucky to finish half of it.

So a few days later, after Daniel reluctantly returned to Erudite and Eric reluctantly returned to work, I've taken it upon myself to put the clothes away, along with a few other things that we've acquired. It was easy to lose myself in folding the tiny outfits, and thus I had the daylights scared out of me when someone knocked on my door. That someone turned out to be Tris's mom, cheerfully asking me if I needed any help or even if I just wanted some company for a few hours.

I was more than happy to have company, especially hers. She helped me sort all the clothes, kindly offering up which sort of outfits she thought I'd use at first, then she helped me wash the ones I'd missed. She laughed when I told her all the things I wanted to do, then took it upon herself to help me hang the pictures up, all while filling me in on Adam.

She talked about him as proudly as any grandmother would. I listened carefully while she talked about how sweet he was, and how much she thought he looked like Four. That he slept most of the time, and if he wasn't sleeping, he was eating. How she could hold him for hours on end, and how much she'd love to have him at home with her. Talking with her felt comforting, like everything was right in this world, and it only confirmed my theory that sending Rylan to go get Natalie and bring her here was the best gift anyone could have given Tris.

I wished her father could have joined in as well, but I knew he was extra busy these days, slowly helping bring Abnegation up to speed. I'd told Rylan to extend the invitation to him, but there was little doubt on my part that Rylan would return with just Natalie.

My plan, aside from the very tiny and hardly noticeable email mistake, had worked out well. Natalie was thrilled to come visit, even just for the afternoon. The next day, I was delighted to hear that she'd extended her stay to help out her daughter, and probably to help open up the hundreds of gifts that had been dropped off. Eric had looked pretty smug when he told me Four had taken to storing them in his office, too.

Having Natalie here helping me get things prepared has been invaluable, but it also makes me a little melancholic. I wish that my own mother were here to give me a hand.

 

 

While Natalie makes us both some coffee, I try very hard not to rip up the letter in my hand.

I almost wish I hadn't even answered the door, but Natalie had opened it for me, cheerfully announcing that I had mail. She'd then handed me an envelope, a heavy one made of fancy paper, and my heart had sunk.

I had been hesitant to open it, for I rarely get anything of the sort. This envelope had the Erudite logo stamped on the back, and only my name on it. Part of me expected it to be from Blythe, some scathing reminder of how little she thought of me. Or maybe a bomb, set to go off in my face the minute I took it out. Despite my fears, I'd slowly torn it open, then quickly skimmed the neatly written letter and tried hard to keep the smile on my face so Natalie didn't ask too many questions.

To be fair, it wasn't that bad, since it wasn't from Blythe.

Instead, it was from Ashley.

It was an apology of sorts, one that I'm sure someone had made her write in a weak attempt to rectify the situation. In her long note, she wrote that she was sorry for what had transpired between us and she hoped that I would be able to forgive her. Her slipping and falling into me was an accident, she claimed, and she knew I'd understand. There was even a line that said her therapist — and I would bet points that it was Blythe — was working with her to move on from Eric. She hinted that he had chosen me second, but she understood why. She then wished me the best of luck in birthing my child and raising it, and even alluded to the fact that the two of us might see each other if I ever were to visit Erudite again. Of course, she had to add that she'd love to see if the baby really is Eric's.

I was seeing a bit of red by the time I got to the end, and I'm sure I looked crazy when I had to force myself not to shred the paper into a million little pieces.

_Everly, take care. You can have him._

The last line graciously offered him up as though he'd been hers all along, and that she was now done with him and was passing him on to me.

Maybe Ashley's head would look great smashed into the ground after all.

"What is it, Everly? Are you okay?" Natalie's voice interrupts my violent thoughts towards Ashley, and I smile as I look up.

"It's nothing. I think someone sent it by mistake. It's definitely not for me," I tell her, shrugging my shoulders. "You know what, why don't we hang up that picture and go get something to eat? We can invite Tris and Four if they're awake. We should take a break from all our work. You've helped me out so much today, and I'd love to just spend some time catching up."

Natalie nods happily, easily agreeing to my plan. I didn't really expect her to put up much of a fight, and lunch will be a nice distraction from this stupid letter and my desire to call Eric right this second and tell him to go for it — to hunt Ashley down and remind her that neither of us cares if she is breathing or not.

"I'd love to. Let me help you hang that picture, and then we'll go grab Tris and the baby."

"Sounds like a plan," I tell her brightly.

For Ashley's own sake, and so Eric wouldn't head to Erudite and rip her eyeballs out, I shove the letter back into the envelope and toss it in the garbage before accompanying Natalie back to the baby's room. It seems fitting, since it's where Ashley belongs.

In the trash.

 

 

"How about this one?"

I tear my gaze away from the weird green blanket I've been folding over and over, turning to look at Eric. He's standing before me in his uniform, holding out a jacket that looks exactly like every other jacket he wears, for some reason waiting for my opinion on if he should wear it or not.

But I have no clue why he's asking me. I haven't been outside today, though if I had to guess, I'd say he's going to wear it regardless of the temperature or the fact that it's nearly eight pm.

"Everly?"

"It's fine," I tell him, lowering my stare back to the blanket and pulling at the fabric. "It looks good."

My words are halfhearted at best, a low defense to the memory that's making my lunch with Natalie, Tris, and Four rise up in my throat. I keep flashing back to Ashley, her stupid comments about seeing Eric in his uniform, and I have to swallow a few times to stop myself from thinking that he ever took his jacket off in her presence.

"Everly…"

"Did you ever think you'd end up with her?"

I blurt out the words as the baby stretches, pushing on what feels like my ribs and my esophagus and my lungs, and I can't help but feel like the timing is reassurance that I should ask Eric this pressing question, and that the baby's reaction means he hates Ashley, too. I'd come to accept that she was someone I'd never like, and that felt fine.

"Did you ever think that if you and I didn't work out, that you'd get back together with her?" I keep going, asking him questions that typically I wouldn't ask until he was lying in bed beside me. But after today, after her stupid apology letter that's been weighing on my mind, I've decided to simply ask him.

"What are you talking about?" He looks at me like I'm insane, and I stare back. "Who?"

Why this is important, I don't know. I have no reason to think Eric would ever leave me, nor do I have any reason to think Ashley would ever have any grounds to come between us. She just bugs me, getting under my skin when I'm feeling my worst, and I'm hoping his answer will satisfy the morbid curiosity that I can't shake.

"Did you ever want to marry her?" I look up at him, and he cocks his eyebrow at me, fighting the confusion that's trying to take over his expression.

"Who?" he asks again, this time rather impatiently.

"You know who," I answer lowly, examining the thread with great interest. "Ashley."

"Ashley. You're asking me if I ever thought I'd end up with Ashley? Why?"

He stares me down, pursing his lips together as an unpleasant look settles over his face. He's never liked these discussions, and typically I've never liked the answers he's given me. But this is different; a part of me needs to know if there's a single speck of truth in what she said, just to assuage my own sudden lack of sanity.

"Yeah." I shrug, and I look up at him from beneath a mess of unbrushed hair. "I was just wondering if you had ever thought about that. She just said that—"

"Is this when you were in Erudite?" he asks sharply. "What did she tell you? Is this why you're asking these questions?"

The stitching on this blanket is garbage, so I throw it aside and meet Eric's stare.

"Yeah. She told me that she used to see you in there, walking around. And she liked seeing you in your uniform, though she liked it much better off," I answer, and he narrows his eyes. "I mean, she said a lot of other things, too. That she doesn't think the baby is yours. That you'll leave me when the baby cries, or when… when he takes up all my time and there's none left for you."

He stays silent, but his fist tightens up on the fabric of his jacket.

"Babies cry, you know," I tell him, sounding a bit dejected and a lot exhausted. "They aren't quiet, and the first few months everyone is tired. I helped my mom for years. It wasn't anything fun. So, Ashley's right in that respect. He will cramp your style. We both will."

"And you think I'm going to be mad that you're tired?" Eric says slowly, and he tilts his head to the side, the same way he has every time he's annoyed. "Because you've been tired since I met you. You fell asleep on my couch a week into your training. You slept in my bed countless times because you were too exhausted to figure out which room was yours. You think that after all this time, I'd be upset that you're tired?"

"No, but…"

"Everly." He says my name in exasperation, and I cringe because I suddenly feel as though I'm coming off like the whiny wife I'd never wanted to be. "This is all because I asked you which jacket you like better?"

"It just reminded me of her." I sigh heavily, wishing I'd never seen Ashley in Erudite. "She just… she sent me this stupid letter that I think was her trying to apologize, and it just pissed me off. Not enough that I want her dead, because I don't. But I don't want you to dislike me because I'm tired or because the baby cries. I just don't want to think about you walking to Ashley's apartment and taking off your clothes."

When I finish, I feel like a strange weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I've never been overly jealous, especially not when it comes to Eric. I'd found the world with him, but Ashley had a way of irritating me because she'd shared the same feelings towards him that I had. She'd been a part of his life when I wasn't, and I suddenly — and violently — wished I could erase her off this earth.

"What letter?" he asks, and I shrug.

"I threw it in the trash in the kitchen. I can dig it out if you'd like to read it," I answer him, and I swear he looks like a blood vessel in his brain might burst.

"For starters, I never… I never went to her apartment when I was in Erudite," Eric says flatly, and I look up in confusion. "She lived in an apartment with three other girls who were all a part of an internship with Jeanine. So no, I never went there and undressed. She came here, but you know that. I've told you that before."

Eric pauses as I take in what he's saying.

"She's trying to fuck with you. When I saw her, she told me to be ready because you'd take the baby and hightail it back to Amity as soon as you'd given birth. That she'd seen the emails to Johanna, asking if she'd let you stay there."

He stares at me as I stare at him, and I can almost feel my blood turn hot.

"I never sent Johanna any emails saying that!" I tell him angrily, and he shrugs.

"I didn't think you did."

"Why would she say that to you?" I ask him, and I sit up a bit straighter. "You know I never wanted to stay there. Why would she make that up?"

"To bother me. To make me think you were leaving, and to let me know she'd be waiting," he announces, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "But it could make sense. I know you miss your mom. You just said you wanted to go visit her."

"Yes, but not to live there!" I exclaim, and I shake my head, furious that she'd dare tell him such a stupid thing. I don't think he believes her, but it still feels pretty crappy. "My mother is… okay, if I were to show up with the baby, I don't know if she'd let me leave. She'd want me to live there, with her, feeding the baby goat's milk and avoiding any and all preservatives. She doesn't even drink coffee."

Eric doesn't smile at my weak joke.

"Everly, I'm telling you, if I could take it back, I would. I never intended for her to try and mess with my life. She was… a convenience. You never were."

"I know. But if I wasn't here, would you have married her? What if we had never ended up together, or if I had failed out of here?" I press on, imagining him telling me I had to leave Dauntless and gleefully returning to her. "If I didn't make it and I was factionless?"

"I told you, you wouldn't fail—" he starts, but I interrupt him, growing more worked up by my terrible imaginary scenario.

"But what if I had? What if I had sucked and I'd wound up dead last? Would you have stayed with her then?"

This time, Eric looks right at me as he stalks to the bed. He sits down beside me, and swallows heavily.

"You know that the answer to that is 'no'. No matter what happened between you and me, I would have cut my ties with her at some point. I was in it because it was fine for the time being. Towards the end, I'll admit she went a little nuts. She wanted to get married. She asked me right before you came here, almost the same questions you are asking me now. She said that if I would marry her, she could stay here in Dauntless. She was sick of going back and forth. She thought I could convince Jeanine to allow her to stay here and work here."

I stare at him, trying hard not to leap off the bed and head to Erudite by myself to find her.

"The two of us both happened to attend a wedding for Max's cousin, some lunatic named Marie, who married a guy an awful lot like Four, except that he was a good three inches shorter than him. They invited Jeanine to be polite, and she brought Ashley along with her. It must have given her some idea, because afterwards she told me she'd thought of everything. Planned everything so we could stay together. I sat there, realizing she had planned out a wedding for us without ever telling me. And you know what I did?"

"Hung her over the chasm for a few minutes?" I ask hopefully, and he smirks.

"I laughed in her face. I told her to fuck off with that shit because I wasn't marrying anyone… ever."

"Oh."

"Not too long after that, I married you," he announces, emphasizing the word 'you'. "I brought you to that Leadership Dinner with your name on our place card as Mrs. Coulter. I sent my RSVP before I even asked you to come with me."

"Is that why you didn't want us to have a wedding? Because she wanted one?" I ask, his hands finding mine.

"No. It was because it was you and me. You were all I wanted. I married you to keep you safe, to keep you away from Jeanine and with me. I didn't want to share you with anyone; what happened between us was only for us. No one else."

"Eric," I start, but he shakes his head.

"If you want a wedding, I'll give you one. Whenever you're ready. Just… you tell me and I'll make it happen. I'm sorry she bothered you, and I'm sorry you ever thought I'd leave you for her. I didn't think I ever gave you any reason to believe that."

"No, you haven't, Eric. I'm sorry for bringing this up. I just want to make sure that you won't get fed up or leave and storm out if things don't go the way you want them to. This last month is making me crazy. I keep thinking of her and you, together, and that maybe you'd leave because she's not pregnant and she's really skinny and she probably doesn't fall asleep so early."

"I would never leave you," Eric answers sharply, and for once, he looks insulted. "I'm not sure why you would think I would. I'm not at all concerned about how the baby will act. I know how children are. I'm not expecting the kid to sit there in silence twenty-four hours a day. If I wasn't willing to deal with this, I would have had Arlene make sure you stayed on birth control. I would have told you no when you asked me about having a baby. I wanted this. Do you not remember interrupting my meeting with Jack, asking me about having a child? I would have told you yes right then and there if that was what you wanted."

"Really?" I ask him, and I notice my bare feet are almost touching his boots. "What if it had happened while you were training me? Or when I couldn't remember…"

"It would have been fine," he declares, and the sharp look from earlier is slowly easing away. "No matter what, it's been you and me. That's it. No Ashley. No Landon. Just you and me. You are all that matters to me."

"She just made it sound like—" I start, but he cuts me off, and his eyes flash dark.

"I know what she made it sound like. She wanted to place that doubt in your mind. She wanted you to think she was right, that she knew more than you." He hesitates for a split second to close the distance between us. I crane my neck up to look at him, his jaw tensing. "I have loved you for a long time, Everly. Long before you told me you loved me, and long before I should have. I wanted you for myself, because you were the only good thing I'd ever had in my life, and God help anyone who thought they were going to take that from me. I will personally hurt anyone who ever tries to make you doubt what I feel for you. It's always been you."

"Even after all this?" I ask him, knowing full well what he's going to say. I suddenly feel like crying, hearing him tell me all this, reassuring me that I have never had anything to worry about.

He leans into me, his arm snaking around my waist and his fingers digging into my side.

He nods, and this time, his eyes are light.

"Always."

 

 

When Natalie Prior leaves, I feel a bit like my own mother is leaving.

I'm surprised to find myself feeling a bit ill, both my heart and stomach hurting on the morning that I know she's leaving Dauntless. I dragged my feet getting ready, knowing that by the time I was ready to go, she'd be departing. Since coming here, Natalie had been splitting her time between Tris and me. She often dropped in when everyone at Tris's was sleeping, and spent a few hours here with me. I wasn't lonely per se, but since my trip to Erudite, I was often home, working on my own.

I'd eased up a bit on myself, realizing that with so little time before the baby comes, it's inevitable that I might not feel like rushing into the office every day. A lot of my work could be done from home, and that gave me the freedom to work and stop as I pleased. I preferred Natalie's company over responding to emails, and even Eric didn't begrudge her appearance too much.

The first day she stayed later than planned, he'd come home to find her sitting on his couch. He'd balked at her presence, but after she'd made him dinner a few times, refusing to let us do anything other than thank her, he'd warmed up to her as much as Eric could. She never overstayed her welcome, though to be honest, I never really wanted her to leave.

So, it was understandable that I felt rather downhearted when we walked her out. I stood close to Eric's side as she hugged everyone goodbye, lingering to give Adam one final kiss, even managing to sort of hug Eric. He wrapped one arm around her, all while keeping his posture rigid and his spine straight. He sneered smugly at Four over Natalie's head, before sternly instructing the guards to make sure he personally had verbal confirmation when she arrived home. Four's unamused look didn't go unnoticed, and I tried to not to laugh when Eric enthusiastically waved goodbye to her when she stepped away.

I watch as Natalie climbs into the truck with Rylan and Four, smiling gently at a frowning Tris, and she waves at us until we can't see her anymore. We stand there silently, my heart in my throat, and I try not to feel stupid for being emotional when Eric finally pulls me away with him.

"You okay?" he asks me, as the group dissipates. I follow along with him, his hand on my back guiding me towards one of the hallways, making sure I don't slip on the steps.

I nod, unsure of how he'll take my telling him I suddenly miss my mother. I certainly don't want him to run and fetch her for the next few weeks, but I don't want him to think I don't want to ever see her again.

"I'm fine. Just…tired," I tell him, and it's mostly true. I feel relieved when he nods in understanding, not pushing the issue.

In the end, I don't really confess anything else to him. I silently take hold of his arm, keeping myself close to him, and I decide that after the baby is born, Eric and I will take him to Amity to stay with my own mother for a few weeks.

 

 

On Saturday, it's way too cold for my liking.

I watch the soldiers from the large exit doors of the compound, a heavy sweater thrown atop my clothes and a black scarf wrapped around my neck. The temperature has been dropping rapidly, and every day seems ten degrees colder than the last. Today, I shiver as the newer patrolmen march by, happy to be finishing up their shift for today. They've been outside for hours, their cheeks red from the cold and their hands frozen. Beside them, Karl marches by, delighted at the change of the season as he leads them to their post.

I wish I could share his enthusiasm, but I've never loved winter.

I've always preferred the spring and summer. There's something alluring about lying out in the sun, spending warm evenings catching fireflies, and sitting around after dinner and listening to tales under the stars. I spent my youth in the water, lazily letting afternoons slip by while we swam until someone came and got us, and I spent many halcyon nights sneaking back to that very same lake for a midnight swim. Wintertime meant that we needed to be covered up, that it was no longer possible to run to my neighbor's house barefoot for some tea, and that the lake water was miserably freezing.

When I came to Dauntless, there was a part of me that felt like I had left all that behind. We don't have a lake here, nor would anyone want to sit outside and catch fireflies. They'd be more likely to catch them to stick in a jar and see if they would fight to the death, or perhaps split into teams and explore the woods without night vision goggles until someone gave up or broke their leg.

Coming to Dauntless meant that I had to change the way I spent my free time, but it still hadn't made me enjoy the cold.

I spent plenty of warm nights with Eric, lying in bed with nothing but a sheet messily draped over us, my head on his chest and my hands trailing down his side. I'd spent plenty of spring days eating lunch with him outside, the lure of blue skies and clouds too appealing to want to spend it in our offices. And I'd spent plenty of fall nights awake with him, unwinding in our apartment and taking guesses on what computer Jason was currently destroying by trying to log into his email.

Today, I hate that I feel rather melancholic as I watch the soldiers march away, noticeably pleased with themselves. They are new to this position, replacing some of the ones who'd been on shift for months on end. After having things be calm and quiet for a good stretch now, the veterans were being given a reprieve, finally called back in from their endless time spent outside of Dauntless.

It's been months since the last time any of our alarms went off. Marcus hasn't been seen in ages — his tracker remaining blissfully silent — almost every faction has been quiet, and even the factionless seem content with sticking to themselves.

It's like we've all taken a collective sigh of relief.

Right now, our seasoned, active soldiers are all being sent on routine patrols, small shifts to make sure things stay safe. I knew they would be patrolling minor routes with little activity, while the newer recruits were being given longer shifts and the patrols that were farther out. For once, it seemed that we'd achieved this harmony that everyone had dreamed of.

But while it should have felt wonderful, the blissful culmination of what we'd all been fighting for, it felt a bit boring. It wasn't like I was asking to be kidnapped again, or that I wanted my memories to be taken from me, it was just that the weather change was the biggest thing that had happened lately, and I was starting to feel a little stir crazy.

Crazy enough that I'm standing here, watching Karl work with his team, instead of doing anything productive.

"Everly, what's up?!"

I smile when Karl calls my name from a good distance away. I wave from the doors, refusing to take another step forward. I still find Dauntless to be freezing, along with our apartment. I thought Eric might consider turning the heat on, but he told me I was hot when I slept and that made him hot, and him being hot made him cranky. So, that means I get to freeze until I fall asleep against him, leaving him to apparently swelter through the night.

"Looking good, Karl."

I answer him cheerfully, noticing how happy he looks. In some ways, I find he often reminds me of Eric, though a much smilier version. His hair is now identical to Eric's, shaved on the sides and combed back. His uniform is the same as the one Eric wears, even with his Leader-in-Training status, and both his posture and gait mirror Eric's as they walk around Dauntless. The grin on his face more than likely comes from his recent engagement to his girlfriend. I'd found great joy in his happiness, and even Eric had managed to smile at the news, probably because Karl was his clone, and Eric now felt a sort of camaraderie with him.

I was shocked that Eric hadn't insisted Karl just marry Charlotte, foregoing any sort of actual proposal or ceremony. Spring it on her when she least expected it, or maybe never tell her until she just sort of discovered it one day when she tried to change apartments.

Eric and Karl had been working together, not quite the same way I'd trained under Eric, but enough that they had become good friends. I saw almost as much of Karl as I did Eric, and it felt sort of serendipitous that he fit right into Eric's other friendships without even trying.

"You look good, too, Everly! Ready to have that baby!"

I'm sure my smile falters a bit, not because his words are mean in any way, but because I've been feeling rather horrible lately.

It's unfortunate, but these past few months of pregnancy haven't been extremely kind to me. I've found myself far more uncomfortable than I ever imagined I would be. It's hard to breathe at times, I either feel hungry or nauseous most of the day, and I've found everyone — especially Eric — to be overly concerned with what I'm doing. I often remind myself that it's because they're worried, but even Max has been on my last nerve, his eyes widening anytime I stand up and his hand hovering over his phone, probably ready to call Arlene in case I suddenly give birth right then and there.

And Eric, my overly protective and now very proactive husband, seems to think anytime I move it means labor is imminent. He's nearly as bad as Max, considering he actually did call Arlene a few times.

Like the time I sneezed six times in a row, which was a clear sign in his book that we needed to head to Erudite.

"Are you warm enough, Amity?"

Eric's voice breaks my train of thought, the mere idea of Arlene conjuring up memories of her last email — a very polite yet intrusive interrogation on how many children I thought we'd have — and I turn to find him standing behind me. He's dressed in a dark black vest and pants, and I stare at his arms, more impressed that they're bare than how well-defined he looks today. He's handled my crankiness by meeting up with his friends to work out when I've had enough of him watching me eat pretzels, and I've handled it by going to bed at a very early hour.

I feel normal, aside from the baby kicking and the occasional urge to throw up when I brush my teeth before bed.

"Of course." I smile, pleased when he closes the distance between us. Truth be told, I'm only dressed warmly because of him — well, him and Christian — but I'm not going to tell him that. "Hey, did you RSVP to Karl's wedding yet? I just realized I forgot to reply."

"Everly, we've got to work on your obsession with attending people's weddings. We got the invitation this morning." He smiles widely and hands me the coffee he's brought along with him, and I gracefully throw myself at him.

"You really missed out, you know. We could have spent months planning for an event that would've been over in mere hours. We could have invited your entire family. And Four could have been your best man." I grin, ignoring his put-out expression.

"Now, there's the option that would have made me consider having a wedding." He rolls his eyes. "But to answer your question, yes. I said we'd be there. Though, you do know it's not for a while?"

I nod, not caring when it is. I just know it will feel good to go somewhere with Eric, dressed like myself and not feeling so pregnant and tired.

"Our wedding was lovely. Or, at least I think it was. I don't know if I got that memory back, but I'm sure it was extravagant," I tease him, enjoying the way his arm snakes around my waist and pulls me against his chest.

"Funny. I'll tell you what happened if you've really forgotten. I very kindly and graciously married you so you'd stay alive, and one day you found out when you were supposed to be doing something else. I had plans to tell you… eventually… but instead, I made you Chinese food and you were good with that," he answers offhandedly, but he grins when he looks down at me. "You certainly weren't complaining when we celebrated later that night."

I should smack him. I definitely remember how we celebrated, and I definitely remember how Eric seemed perfectly pleased to have pulled off the greatest scheme of his life.

"What are you doing here?" I ask instead, leaning against him and watching Karl corral several patrolmen back towards the command center. I know that inside, the place is probably quiet, with only a few soldiers needed on staff. "Didn't you have a meeting?"

"I did," he answers, nodding when Jason and Rylan spy us, and he waves them over. "I'm done now. It was no big deal. There's some minor activity outside of Amity, but nothing concerning."

My heart skips a beat when he says Amity, and I crane my neck to look up at him.

"Eric—"

"It's fine, Everly. I promise on Four's exhausted life that I'd tell you if there were any real threat," he reassures me, not letting go when his friends stop in front of us.

They both are dressed in the new uniforms we had received, the same ones that everyone had been given a week ago, since Christian got the idea in his head that we were out of style. He said goodbye to the ill-fitting jackets and terrible moonboots someone had once picked out, and now almost everyone wears these sharply shiny, lace-up boots and a much sleeker uniform. I hadn't even put mine on yet, but I did like the boots. Eric did, too, since his seem especially shiny.

"Coulter and Coulter and Coulter. You guys are looking good. Everly, for once you're dressed appropriately for the season," Rylan jokes, and I have to laugh with him. Rylan and I have spent lots of time together lately, especially since Christina started alternating her free time between helping Tris and checking in on me. Her increased presence, combined with Natalie's presence, have nearly driven Eric insane, but I don't mind. Especially because I got the idea that maybe Rylan would propose if he spent enough time seeing how much Eric enjoyed being married, or heard about it from Christina.

"Sort of. I do have a dress on underneath this," I point out, and Jason snorts.

"I should have known. Hey, are you guys going to his wedding?" Rylan asks, motioning to Karl. "Christina and I are. We decided we're getting them a new couch. We sat on theirs the other night, and it was terrible. With all the points Karl earns, he should buy some nicer furniture."

"We are going," I reply, noticing the sudden grimace on Jason's face. "What's wrong? Jason, please tell me you got invited to this one."

"Of course, I did." Jason feigns looking hurt, then points at Eric. "I'm just surprised Eric's agreed. We all know he hates weddings."

"Yeah, but he loves Karl. Maybe more than us," Rylan informs him, and he kicks Jason's shoe. "Remember the good ol' days, when he loved us and would occasionally tear himself away from his trainee to come have beers with us?"

"Mm-hmm," Eric answers him, not really listening. "You guys secured all the checkpoints already? Max's email said the cameras keep going down over sector three."

"You really should stand up as his best man. You know, since you seem to be so proud of him and all," Jason insists, and Eric shoots him a murderous glare.

"You really should fuck off," Eric snaps, and I know he's about to leave. "Get back to work before someone wanders through the gates."

"Will do, Sir." Jason playfully mocks him, and Eric ignores him.

"I'll catch you two later. Hey, uh, I'm supposed to call your dad tonight. He said he'd call me around six if I didn't call him first," Rylan tells Eric, and I notice he looks at me. "I thought maybe you guys would want to come by. Maybe we could all say hello."

"Thank you, but Everly goes to bed at four-thirty now, so she won't make it." Eric smiles brightly, and I try hard not to be insulted.

"I do not go to bed at four-thirty. I've been going to bed at seven. That's a big difference," I remind him, and he raises both his eyebrows.

"Huge difference. Seven. As in seven pm, when the sun is still up."

"The sun is definitely not still up at seven," I retort, crossing my arms. "It's dark. You said it was too dark out to go for a run the other night, so you were going down to the training center."

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Rylan watching us, a funny expression crossing his face.

"Wow. Interesting. Remind me to never ever get Christina pregnant. But alright, I'll tell him hello from everyone. I'm sure he'll call you later," Rylan tells Eric, and I return to watching Karl's group as the two of them talk about Four. Eric asks him something, but I lose interest when I realize it has started to rain.

"Everyone to the left! Now!" Karl yells at some of the newbies as it starts to fall a bit heavier, the drops large and wet, and I can't help but wonder if it'll rain on Choosing Day.

 

 

It would be just my luck that my latest appointment with Dr. Denten seems to take forever.

I impatiently wait while Will tries to get her to agree to some new update for their fancy computer, and I impatiently wait while she tells him she'll have to do it when they have a break, but not now. He argues that it could be beneficial for today — in fact, for my appointment that I'm currently sitting here waiting for — and I idly wonder how many patients Dr. Denten has here. I wonder if she works with all the pregnant women in Dauntless, or only those who ask for her or who have some special privileges. I lose interest in my own thoughts when Arlene barges into the room without knocking.

She looks disappointed to discover I'm simply sitting here, swinging my legs back and forth and wishing I'd grabbed a snack on the way in.

Once Dr. Denten acknowledges her, Arlene stares me down, blinking behind her glasses before asking me if I've picked out a birthing coach yet. She looks less than pleased when I blurt out the first name that pops into my head, though to be fair, Christian would be a terrible birthing coach — unless I was counting on him to bring the baby's first outfit.

Luckily for me, she's called away before she can inquire any further, and I nearly fall asleep lying on the exam table, waiting for Will to finish his plea to just update the machine right then and there.

 

 

The Market is much more crowded than I expected.

I walk along with Eric, strolling lazily even in the cold air, occasionally nudging him with my elbow when I see something that catches my interest.

It feels strange to be back here; it has seemed at times that this place only exists in my imagination. My last visit here had been ages ago, and we'd bumped into Sophia and Courtney selling flowers from Amity. They'd been both impressed and fearful of Eric, but stayed polite even when he'd interrupted my time with them by loudly declaring he'd found us a kitchen table, and none-too-subtly hinted that it was more important than the Amity girls gaping at him.

In a way, he was right.

That table has turned out to be far more important that I'd ever imagined. I've sat at it with him, sometimes eating dinner and sometimes arguing over something stupid, but always together. We sat down for a dinner that started to mend the fractured relationship he had with his father, he and Four sat there and worked together on a plan to find Four's mother, and he'd eaten alongside people who he normally would never have given the time of day to.

Now, we're back here with the intent to find a gift for Karl and Charlotte, and I'm hoping to discover something that can't be found in Dauntless.

I'm beyond impressed with the items people have for sale here, for it seems impossible that the things scavenged ever existed elsewhere. There are plenty of books with rich-looking covers and serious-sounding author's names embossed on the spine, plenty of DVDs like the ones Eric and I have spent our nights together watching, and tons of electronics, all blinking and pleading for someone to buy them. There are clothes, all sorts of styles of shoes that wouldn't be practical in Dauntless — or anywhere else, really. Flower carts are parked alongside food vendors offering strange types of food that look unappealing, one display table promises to personalize whatever you can think of with whatever you'd like on it, and finally, there's an elegant display of all kinds of sparkly jewelry.

"Do you think they'd like something from there?" I point to the glittering mess, remembering the way Eric gave me my wedding ring. I can count on one hand the number of men and women I've seen wearing them, aside from myself, Eric, and his father, and I wonder if maybe Karl would like in on the tradition. "He might like one like you have."

"Maybe."

Eric answers me offhandedly, his attention focused on the table of books beside the jewelry. I smile when he lets go of my hand to wander over there, picking up a dark blue book and eyeing it critically. I resume my own wandering, happily getting lost in the bright-colored clothes that are hanging and the overly-stuffed display of baked goods. My attention span lasts about four seconds. I lift my head and find Sophia and Courtney behind the counter, both beaming brightly.

"Hey!"

I barely get the words out before they've rushed around, squishing me between them. They hug me far too tightly, even though it's an awkward squeeze, before they let me go and whirl around in front of me.

"Everly," Sophia says slowly, a knowing grin on her face. "Girl, you are pregnant. Like, really pregnant."

"We'd heard," Courtney interrupts, and she looks so excited that she might explode. "We can't wait for you to give birth. Your mom's hoping you'll have her in Amity."

"Her?" I repeat, and I shake my head. "You guys, it's so good to see you. I was just thinking that the last time I was here, so were you. But, um, the baby is a boy, and yeah, he's due really soon. One of my be…" I stop as they both raise their eyebrows, and a wave of guilt at calling Tris one of my best friends washes over me. It was through no fault of either Sophia or Courtney that I'd left them behind, but it still felt not very kind on my part to remind them that we weren't as close as we had been. "My friend, Tris. She just gave birth to her son. He's adorable."

"That's so awesome! I bet they'll be, like, the best of friends," Sophia gushes, happy for someone she's never even met, and even happier at the idea of two babies being friends. "We were hoping you'd be here. We've been trying to think of a way to tell you we opened up our own bakery in Amity! You have to take some stuff back for you and Eric. Actually, Forrest helped us come up with the plan and the name, and Johanna gave us permission to use the kitchens whenever we need. We ran out of space in our home after only the first few months."

Beside her, Courtney nods excitedly, and I grin at the both of them.

I also thank my lucky stars that I listened to my gut instinct and got out of there before I wound up spending my days working in an Amity bakery called Flour Child.

"That sounds wonderful," I tell them, and I reach for the cupcake Courtney hands me. I have to admit it looks beautiful. It's a swirl of pretty pastel colors and some gold glitter, but for a few reasons, I just can't bring myself to take a bite. I stare for another second when it finally hits me. "Um, hey guys, is there… is there peace serum in this?"

I make sure my question comes out politely. While I had been very vocal in my lack of desire to ingest the peace serum, not everyone in Amity is so against it. I didn't want to insult either of them, because I know they both enjoy the happy feelings it brings.

"It looks really good. I just don't think… the baby should have any peace serum!" I blurt out. "I don't have any medical clearance for that."

I smile gently at them, then back at the glittery cupcake again. It looks completely normal and definitely like it tastes good, but I'd prefer not to head back to Dauntless higher than a kite, and I know that I'd have a better chance of getting Eric to eat dirt than this.

"Not a single drop!" Sophia replies, and I can tell she finds my hesitation funny. "I know, you'd think they would have peace serum in them. But everyone in Amity likes that it's just a cupcake. I mean, you could always order a dozen with peace serum in them, but we make everything without. We make a lot of birthday cakes, too. We were just talking about making you one and seeing if we could get it to Dauntless."

"Thank you," I tell her sincerely. "You guys, that's really kind. I'm so glad this has worked out for you two. I love that you guys are so happy."

They look at each other, then start cracking up.

"We are!" They beam at me, pleased as ever with what they've been up to. "It's been perfect! We hope Eric will like it. You'll have to let us know what he thinks."

"You'll have to use your imagination because I'm not eating that."

Eric's dry voice interrupts our talk, and I turn to spy my sulky-looking husband's eyes fixed on the peach and pink cupcake in my hand. I smile, holding it out in front of him, and I make sure he's looking right at me.

"There's no peace serum. It's only in the breads and dinner rolls." I wink, and he narrows his eyes in response.

"I'll pass, but congrats on the business," he tells them, widening his stance just a bit. He's far more relaxed now than at any other time we've seen them, and I'm so happy that he hasn't rushed us off to buy more books or another table. "It looks…. successful."

"We're almost sold out of everything today. Everything in the display has been preordered and is waiting to be picked up. We saw you guys walk in, so we put aside two cupcakes for you. We can box them up for you to take home," Courtney offers, taking the one back from my hand. "Eden helped us come up with a few of the flavors. I think you'll love them, Everly."

"I'm sure I will." I glance at Eric out of the corner of my eye, catching sight of his dismayed expression. He finally shrugs and looks back at me, knowing this is one battle he won't win.

"Enjoy your unicorn tear-flavored cupcakes."

"I will," I tell him. Courtney takes the cupcake from my hand and places it inside a plain brown box. Seconds later, she hands it back, and I have to admit I'm impressed. It has their logo on the top and wildflowers tucked into the rough string she's used to tie it. It looks straight out of Amity, and I can't help but love it. "I'll let you guys know as soon as we eat them."

"We have an email now!" Sophia excitedly tells me. She grabs a piece of paper off the table, and scratches out a carefully printed address. "You can message us anytime. We respond right away. We were using Johanna's, but someone donated computers and we got one of them. I think Forrest might have gotten one, too."

"Oh God," I answer them, horrified that Forrest might have figured out mine or Eric's email. The last thing I need is him having a way to relentlessly contact us at all hours of the day or night. His hero worship of Eric hasn't died down, and having Eric's email would be the perfect way for him to harass him daily. "That's the last thing anyone needs."

"Well, true." Sophia snickers, handing me the paper. "He emails us a lot. Sometimes when we're sitting right next to him. But we don't mind. He brings Woody by, and he likes it when we let him pick out the flavors."

"How cute," I answer, folding up the paper. "How is my mom? Is she good?"

"So good. She's so excited for you to have your baby. I think she's counting down the minutes," Courtney tells me. Her eyes flick over to Eric, then back to me. "You'll come visit, won't you? Both of you? We're all waiting to see her. We were thinking maybe you'd stay for a while."

"Yes, of course," I reassure her, and I only catch a glimpse of Eric. He doesn't look annoyed or like he'd refuse, but he does clear his throat. "I mean, maybe once he's born and things calm down. Not right away. Eric's dad wants us to visit, too."

"Oh, I'm sure," Sophia agrees, and she leans in to hug me as someone waves her over to their display of baked goods. "Just email us when you're coming. We'll make sure to take a few days off."

"We should get back to work. Did you guys find everything you're looking for?" Courtney asks.

I shake my head no. "We came for a wedding gift, but I haven't looked at everything just yet."

"Maybe they'd like some cake. We can give them ours," Eric offers up, not even bothering to try and sound helpful. "It was lovely seeing you all, but Everly and I might have to come back some other time. There's a storm coming this way, and they're closing everything down in the next hour."

"Really?" I turn to look at him in surprise, but he's right. The dark clouds that we saw on the drive in are now overhead, threatening to unleash their storm right over us. "Darn it. We didn't find anything yet."

"We will," Eric promises, and he takes a step towards me. "We have plenty of time. But right now, we should head out before it starts raining."

"I'll see you guys soon," I tell my friends and clutch the box closer to me. I have a sudden, terrible rush of homesickness, even though Amity hasn't been my home for years. "Tell everyone hello from us."

They both agree, and with one more quick, squishy hug, they say their cheerful goodbyes. I keep waiting to feel like it's final, like I'll never see them again, but that feeling doesn't come. The deep desire to see my mom does, but I expected that.

I leave the market with Eric. He carries out the cupcakes, and I hold onto his free hand, smiling at people as we walk by. He's right, of course, his weather-controlling powers kicking in because it starts to rain almost as soon as we reach the truck we'd taken here. He holds the door open for me, then keeps his eyes directly on mine when he extends his free hand to help me step up.

I wonder how I missed the books he purchased, because I don't see them until I slide into the passenger seat of the truck and catch sight of one of the covers. The one with the boy I'd spent a lot of time reading about, with his fingers stretched skywards and his robes blowing in the wind behind him is on top.

My chest tightens when I realize it's the final one in the series.

 

 

 

My brother sends me an email a few days before initiate training starts.

After seeing Courtney and Sophia, it's not at all unexpected. I smile when I read it, especially the part where he misspells Four's name, and I grin even wider when I read that one of his beers is now being produced exclusively for the Dauntless faction.

He's named the special batch Cire. I cringe when I get to that part, and I can't help but think it's a terrible tribute to his brother-in-law, though I'm sure he thought long and hard about it before deciding on such a monstrosity.

I send an immediate reply to him, ignoring his requests to tell Eric he'd like to be there when it launches and for me to give him Eric's email, and I congratulate him on his success.

It feels good that there ends up being a little bit of my brother in Dauntless after all.

 

 

This time around, there are many female initiates.

I glance around the room quickly; all of the males are eyeing the females arrogantly, grinning smugly and undoubtedly assuming they have an advantage over them. Sure, most are taller and almost all of them outweigh the girls. Most look like they've been bred to come here, strong and muscular, all cocky and arrogant from their breathtaking entry into the compound. All of the boys look ready to fight, even in just these scant few minutes in Dauntless, and I would bet all my points that they think not a single girl will take their spots.

I'm right.

"You should have stayed home," one of the taller boys says mockingly to the girl beside him, and her hands ball into fists.

She barely comes up to his shoulders. Her long, black hair is tangled from the wind and from jumping several stories down a black hole, and her white dress is dirty, but the look on her face is one of determination. Beside her stands another girl, this one taller with short red hair, and she pulls her shoulders back when the boy takes the time to scowl at her.

"Neither of you are gonna make it," he warns them in a low voice, making sure they both heard him.

"Maybe you should have stayed home. You probably won't make it," the dark-haired one answers, nudging her friend slightly, then turning to stare at me when she realizes I'm watching her. She smiles in recognition, the nervousness clear beneath her brave grin, but I smile back at her.

She's right.

He probably won't make it.

The boy ducks his head down, his brown hair hanging in his eyes, and he takes a step back towards his friends as Eric stalks past him with a cold stare on his face. He inspects them all with little interest, though I know he's mentally cataloguing the weaknesses he's noticed while taking a quick inventory of who they are. His eyes flick to the girl, the one who's standing close to her friend, trying to fix her messy ponytail before he notices. He looks at me, raising his eyebrow up when the girl stands tall as he walks past her wordlessly.

The new initiates are lined up in messy rows, more crowded together than anything, still silently sizing each other up. But they know Eric's important because they've quieted down, simply because he walked in front of them.

Eric turns to survey them one final time, a very unimpressed stare fixed on his face, and a few of them, mostly the boys, step back when he starts to speak, his welcome speech short and very uninviting.

He holds his hands behind his back, and he looks menacing as he glares at them, giving them their first introduction of what's to come.

"Welcome to Dauntless."

 

 

"Oh, fuck."

The cramp across my abdomen should be expected, though it hurts more than the last one. It's sharp enough that my eyes water and I feel hot all over. I try to stay perfectly still and not tense up, somehow forcing myself not to gasp for air like I'm dying, because that's certainly not how I want my last training class to go.

"Keep going. Keep punching while making sure you have the right form," I call out, my voice sounding much higher than normal; I try to ignore the very intense stare coming from Eric.

I know what he's thinking, because I'm thinking the same thing. This feels too early, even though I have less than three weeks to go before the estimated due date Dr. Denten gave me.

Despite that, training the initiates is something I've refused to give up on. I'm determined to prove to everyone, including myself, that I can do this. That even pregnant — and really pregnant if these contractions are any indication — I can still do my job. Eric gave me the side eye the first day I got dressed, and I pretended it was simply because I was struggling to tie the stupid boots Christian had decided we were all wearing. I spent most of my pregnancy not looking pregnant, but there's definitely no doubt now. Eric's child is taking up all the free space in my entire body, and I often feel like my internal organs have been squished into my chest.

But I merely smiled, threw my hair in a bun, and headed down to greet the initiates.

Once there, I ignored the hot stare from Lauren, the worried-yet-so-thrilled-to-be-there stare from Karl, the tired and exhausted stare from Four, and the bored and downright nasty glare from Eric. I knew what he was thinking, that there was no way I was going to be able to train anyone like this, and I was coming to the sucky realization that he was right. The only jogging I was doing was when I thought I might vomit, and the only climbing I was doing was when Eric put our dishes on the top shelf.

But the initiates didn't seem to notice my lack of abilities.

They were an overly-excited bunch, so thrilled to be starting over in Dauntless and full of a nervous energy that made them unable to stop talking. It had taken them about four seconds to realize that Eric hated all of them on sight, and they'd learned to shut up anytime he entered the room. They stared at Four with wide eyes, and I could see their brains working overtime when he explained that both Four and I would be training the class, but that Four wouldn't be back for a few more weeks, and that I would then be gone in a few weeks with Karl filling in as needed.

A few paled when they realized they would have him, Eric Coulter, for their entire training.

I felt a speck of unwanted jealousy when I realized that some of these girls were staring at him, mainly his exposed arms and probably his freshly-cut hair, and I had to remind myself that I had no reason to feel like that. I grinned when a few of them pointed out his wedding band, their grins falling even more when he snapped at them to follow Four so he could lead them on the tour.

My jealousy faded the minute they left when Eric kissed me soundly, one hand in the back of my hair and the other on the side of my jaw. He then stepped back, taking us back to the control room where we waited for the initiates to finish their tour, and he and Rylan made bets on which ones would make it through. It felt like old times, with me sitting on his lap while we watched the security footage and his fingers tugging at my hair. I felt good, really good, as I plunged headfirst into the training.

The first week went well.

It was Four and me, though he was really only back to get things started. I was surprised to see him take a break from his leave, but Eric told me that Four wanted to make sure he was there at the start, overseeing what I soon would learn was the final class he would train. His son's a few months old now, and he confessed that he found himself struggling with the decision to not work as a trainer anymore. It was obvious that there was a major shift in his priorities now, and training a class really didn't interest him like it once had. I was a little bummed since I'd come to enjoy working with him, but it was fine because Karl was ready to step into his place.

The second week started off alright, though I was dead fucking tired.

I'd forgotten that Eric is a machine who runs off of endorphins combined with the tears of initiates. He would rise early, nearly dragging me out of bed every day, and he'd start his training a good two hours earlier than Four. Just because he could.

An enthusiastic Karl was there, too.

He was just as energetic as Eric; he easily ran with the initiates, he happily helped partner them up and demonstrated what they needed to work on, and he worked out alongside of them relentlessly. I had done my best to keep up with the two of them, but I had reached a point where I simply couldn't.

So, I did everything I could do, including keeping the ranks and scores, watching them as best as I could, and helping out in any way I could find. I felt productive, even ignoring the dumb ones who giggled when Eric looked away, or who blatantly stared at him from beneath their eyelashes. It took everything in me not to erase all their points, and even more patience to try to correct them so they'd pass. For the first time since choosing to work with initiates, I wouldn't have minded if a few failed.

"Eric, can you help me?"

A high-pitched voice calls out to him, far too giggly and annoying for someone who is about to be punching at a bag like her life depends on it. Which it does. The voice belongs to a girl much taller than me, one with long, auburn hair and a very punch-able face. I try hard not to glare as Eric eventually heads towards her, his pace a slow, irritated stalk.

She smiles widely, her eyes trailing up then down over him as though she were inspecting him for purchase, and I nearly hyperventilate when she tries to touch his arm.

"You good, Everly? You want a drink? Charlotte's going to stop by with coffee. I thought you might like one?"

Karl, the ever-sweet Prince of Dauntless, is offering me coffee, the only thing in life that's really keeping me going, and I barely hear him.

"Everly? You okay?" Karl nudges me, and I can tell he's following my stare to Eric.

"What is she doing?" I ask through gritted teeth, my fingers digging into the papers I'm holding. I rack my brain trying to remember her name, only knowing that it's something terrible like Tawny.

"Well, it looks like that girl's about to get her arm broken." He snickers as Eric shoves the girl back a step, warning her to never touch him again. She instantly loses her brave and sultry look and trades it for one of horror as all her confidence drains from her face. He coldly instructs her to get to work, then leaves without another word. She looks at her friend, mortified that he didn't find her irresistible, and it takes her a good minute before she works up the nerve to look at him again; she's further embarrassed when Four walks by trying hard not to crack a smile.

"Fucking morons in this class, I swear," Eric mutters, coming to a stop beside me. He looks curiously at Karl and me, the amused expression on Karl's face and the utter hatred on mine, and he cocks his head to the side. "Are you two okay?"

"Oh, fine. We were just, uh, watching that girl throw herself at you. You know, it happened to me, too. The one on the end." He stops, pointing to a blonde girl who keeps looking back at him. "She told me she liked my hair. Then she asked if I offered private lessons. I think she asked Four next. These ones are brave, I'll give them that."

"They're all gonna fail," Eric declares, staring at me. "Everly, are you alright? What's wrong? Is it that girl?"

I raise my eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest and trying not to look like I'm that upset by the whole thing. The truth of the matter is that I'd like to rank the girl dead last, but I'm more mature than that.

"No," I say slowly. "I'm… just observing her lack of ability to take direction. She's going to make a terrible soldier."

Eric's face lights up in dark delight, and I find myself turning red.

"Funny. All this time, and I've never seen you so jealous." He sounds so amused, so downright gleeful that I would be worked up over some girl touching him, and I can only scowl at him.

"I'm not jealous. I'm… just not impressed."

"Me, either," Karl agrees, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "But I'll leave you two here. Four's got a free minute and I want to see if he got the invitation to my wedding."

"Bye," I answer crankily, and Eric smiles.

"Cute, Amity. Don't worry, I'll let you touch my arm later. Maybe my elbow, too. "

"Gee, thanks." I try to keep a straight face, but it's lost when I feel the same stabbing contraction again, and I have to try hard to stay upright. "You know what? I'm going to get some water."

I smile tightly, ignoring the searing pain as I try to walk confidently towards the drinking fountain. I spend far too long there, trying to slow down my erratic breathing. It passes eventually, and when I look back, Four and Karl are talking with Eric, and poor Tawny is under the sharp stare of all of them, her arms clearly aching with the effort of each punch to the bag.

It's my turn to smirk, until the next contraction hits and I curse Eric's name.

 

 

Amity seems colder than Dauntless.

Maybe it's because it's set so far on the outskirts of the factions, or maybe it's the wide open fields and the vast space. But the cold air seems more intense here, biting when we walked through it, arriving here in the early evening several days ago.

I should have expected the panicked call to come in, for Marcus couldn't stay quiet forever. At least I assumed it was Marcus, though Johanna's frantic message hadn't been very specific. She'd seen men, lots of men who weren't from Amity, wandering through her fields. She'd watched them mess with her water towers, examining and touching the purification systems, then bolting when she came close. A few days later, two of their farmhands were attacked, and the injured men couldn't give her a very good description of their assailants. A day later, a chicken died, followed by another, so logically, her next step was to call Eric.

Though chicken deaths were low on his priority list, he was happy to spring into action. He was convinced it was the same activity as before, and he was wasting no time getting to the bottom of it.

Of course, he'd announced we would both go; he had known that I wasn't going to stay behind. Even pregnant, there was no way I'd sit back in Dauntless — and watch Tawny weep until her eyeliner ran when Eric didn't rank her first or even twelfth — while he went off to Amity. And since he'd made this plan himself, he also arranged for Rylan to come with us, and for Karl and Four to oversee the training. I'd been slightly confused until he pointed out that were it to actually be Marcus, we'd need backup. Of course, we would still have patrolmen with us, and of course, once he heard about it, Four had refused to stay behind.

There was sort of a standoff that went on while I packed a bag for Eric and me, and it was with great exasperation that Four and Rylan agreed to change places. Rylan grudgingly agreed to oversee the class with Karl, and Four was determined to make sure it wasn't his father attempting to stir things up. I walked out with all of them, listening to their rapid-fire battle strategies, and I flashed back to my days of listening to Harrison drone on and on about this. I was never more relieved than when we pulled away from Dauntless, and I found myself fairly optimistic as we left. It felt good to get away from the prying eyes of the initiates, especially the ones who had figured out that not only was I married to Eric, but that I was ranking them just as much as he was.

Our drive out was quiet, and we showed up with many more trucks and men than I would have expected this mission to require.

Zander couldn't have been more thrilled.

It seemed like most of Amity was waiting for us to arrive, and Zander was front and center. His eyes stayed glued to Eric as he easily jumped out of the truck, marched around to open up my door, and finally smiled impatiently when he realized everyone was staring at him.

Zander's eyes grew even wider when Eric stopped in front of him, winked, and held out his hand in a surprising offer. Zander took it, and the two of them stormed off to Johanna's office together, ignoring everyone else. The act was adorable, but it wasn't so adorable when Eric left us all behind, Zander included, taking his trucks and his men to go investigate the disturbance. Zander did finally stop screaming by dinnertime, and I gratefully sank down into an oversized chair in the living room, watching him sniffle a few more times because Eric wasn't back yet.

I wanted to tell him that I was also impatiently waiting for Eric to return, because this mission was supposed to be nothing. Before leaving, he had promised me that this was probably just a bunch of drunk factionless men acting like idiots. He didn't think it was Marcus, since his tracker hadn't shown any activity near Amity, but it also hadn't moved in a week. I knew he was suspicious, but so was I, and I tried hard to ignore it when my mother suddenly handed me a mug of tea and told me to sit tight.

"It'll help you relax. You're looking awfully stressed out, Everly." Mom gently pats my hair, and I know her fingers are itching to braid it out of the way. "He'll be back. You said it was nothing, and he said he didn't think it was anyone important. I'm sure it'll be handled today."

I smile over the mug, debating on if I should really drink what's in it.

"Stop inspecting that like I'm trying to trick you. That tea is good for you. It'll draw out the impurities in your blood." My mother brushes my hair off my shoulder and stares at me until I take a sip. "You look very pale, dear. Perhaps once he's back, the two of you should stay for a while."

"I'd like that." I swallow down the cinnamon-flavored tea, wondering if my blood would be purified today or tomorrow. "I need a break because I'm tired. I just… I don't know if Eric can be gone that long."

"Nonsense," Eden answers, gracefully taking the seat beside me. For a moment the two of us stare out her large windows, the panes streaked with frost. "You deserve time off. You have more than enough leaders there. You need to slow down before the baby comes. Take some time for yourself."

"Maybe." I sound faraway, and my eyes blur when I try to focus on the trees in the distance. "I would feel guilty walking away from my class, though. I've been training them for a few weeks, but I have to say it isn't easy."

"I don't imagine it would be easy for you right now. Or necessary." Eden nods her head at my stomach, and I don't even realize I've placed one hand there, finding comfort in the baby kicking. "Finish your tea slowly. I'm going to put Zander to bed. If you aren't tired, I'll stay up with you."

"Thank you," I tell her, wishing I'd come home sooner. "Really, Mom. Thank you. I just hope he's okay. Maybe I should have gone with him."

"Don't be ridiculous. You can't just run off after him any time he goes somewhere. He's a big boy. He can handle himself. You're safest here, even if it's boring." She looks at me knowingly, and I guiltily take a large swallow of the tea.

"He could get shot," I point out, sighing heavily. "Or, he could be totally fine and on his way back."

"I'd say it's probably the latter." She smiles, kindly and lovingly, even when Zander screams that Eric is the only acceptable adult to put him to bed. I listen to her talking to him calmly, making him laugh when she suggests he let Eric borrow his rain boots tomorrow, and carrying him up the stairs without tripping over his toy cars and trucks. I wonder how she's stayed so patient after all this time, or if she's ever grown tired of being here, endlessly caring for others.

But when I look around at her living room, the very one I grew up playing in, I realize she's never been anything but patient and kind. The house is still decorated the same as it was when I left, and it's warm and happy. There is nothing threatening here, and her offer of staying — with Eric, of course — is highly alluring.

Maybe that's what the two of us need: to stay in Amity, preferably in another house where Zander isn't, just Eric and me. We could sleep in, enjoying our last cold days alone together before the baby arrives and everything changes.

I finally feel myself relax, sinking further into the warm chair, and I finish my tea.

I'll tell him when he's back.

 

I wake up to a feeling of overwhelming panic.

It's painfully clear that I'm alone; Eric has not returned, and my bed seems both far too small and much too large. I stare at the empty pillow next to me, trying to slow down my racing heartbeat and my frantic thoughts, but I can't. I miss Eric desperately, and even my warm bed isn't enough to lull me back to sleep. I contemplate trying to call him, hoping that maybe just hearing his voice will help me to ignore the weird feeling that I can't seem to shake. But the second I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my panic becomes a reality.

For a moment, I think I will be sick.

There is a rush of pain, one that comes and goes far more quickly than I am prepared for, making it almost impossible to breathe. It is nothing like the practice contractions that I've had before; my stomach contracts over and over, becoming hard and uncomfortable, and I find myself clutching the edge of my childhood dresser to steady myself. I try to force myself to breathe through the pain, though the end result makes me dizzied and nauseated.

I try to take another step, thinking that if I can get outside and get some fresh air that maybe I'll be alright. My plan seems like a good one until the pain comes back just as intensely as before.

"You're fine," I mentally remind myself, trying hard to remember my last appointment with Dr. Denten. After Will had updated the computers for what seemed like hours, she had given me plenty of suggestions on what to do when my labor started. She'd spoken about keeping a positive mindset, about how a lot of this was all in my head, and if I kept a happy outlook on it — focusing on the end result and not the pain — that I'd be fine.

Except that her techniques, breathing deeply and slowly, counting in my head until the tightness went away, and even allowing myself to feel the pain and accept it, weren't helping at all. The pain felt like my bones were being crushed together all at once, and I was only granted a few moments of relief before it would start all over again.

"Mom?" I call out for her, fumbling through the darkened hallway and heading towards the stairs. The thought of going down them is daunting, since I doubt I'll be able to make it all the way down before another contraction hits. "Mom?"

"Are you okay?"

I dig my nails into the banister of the railing, ignoring the panicked stare from my sister. She blinks at me nervously and her eyes fall to my stomach.

"Everly, is it… is it happening?" Holly gasps as something wet drips down my leg. "Everly, you look like you're going to barf."

"Oh, God. Holly, I think… I don't think I'm going to make it to Erudite. I think I'm going to have the baby here."

"What? But you can't have him here! You said… you said Eric wanted the baby born in Erudite! You have to call someone!"

"Who on Earth am I supposed to call?" I ask her between gritted teeth. I can feel a contraction starting yet again. I try to ready myself, though I have little time to prepare for it.

"You need to call him! Eric!" she yells, though she isn't more than two feet away from me. "That guy you married!"

"I don't know where my phone is." It's the last thing I say to her before she shrieks at the top of her lungs as I double over in pain.

I can hear her yelling for our mom, screaming that I need help, her voice full of unnecessary panic. I want to smack her for worrying, as I should be the one panicking. I currently can't stand upright, I can barely breathe, and there's a slow trickle of liquid that I can only assume is due to my water breaking, two weeks before my baby is supposed to arrive.

I hear lots of footsteps before I find myself nearly on my knees, suddenly regretting every single time I'd ever had sex with Eric. Every night we'd shared together flashes through my mind. His grey eyes on mine, his lips slowly quirking up as I groaned his name, his hands in my hair or on my back, pulling me closer to him. I swear loudly, remembering all the times I'd climbed on top of him, the way I'd decided I no longer wanted to be on any form of birth control, and the way he'd bent me over the railing while Karl patrolled one level below us.

"You jerk!" I hiss at my memory of him, suddenly feeling like this is entirely his fault. "I just need to get outside and I'll be okay. Can you guys help me get downstairs? I can call Daniel…"

"Everly, honey, I don't think you're going to make it to Erudite and I don't think Daniel will make it here in time, either."

I look up to the calm gaze of my mother, a warm but concerned look on her face as she touches my forehead.

"I don't have a fever. But maybe I do. I'm really hot," I gasp, and she smiles cheerfully.

"Everly, you're in labor. We need to get you somewhere you can be comfortable." My mother gently guides me a step back, and I close my eyes when it hurts bad enough that I can't move.

"Eric… I have to wait for him. I told him… I told him we'd go to Erudite tomorrow…"

"You aren't going anywhere except for maybe another few steps. I don't think you'll be in labor very long." Eden patiently waits for me to straighten myself up as best I can, and I stare up at her in horror.

The pain of the contractions has become so frequent, that the thought of riding in a car, hell even walking the rest of the way back to my room, seems impossible.

"Will you call him?" I ask, and I glance over at the stairs to the presence of my brother, his hair stuck in every direction and a confused look on his face. "Forrest, you have to call Eric!"

"Whoa, hey, I just came by to borrow some sugar. But… um, hey, is she in labor? She is… isn't she?" Forrest is staring at me just like Holly was, and I glare at him from beneath my bangs.

"Why do you need sugar? It's one in the morning," Holly asks curiously, still not budging and still staring. "What are you making? Cookies?"

"WILL. SOMEONE. PLEASE. CALL. ERIC!" I end up saying the words far more forcefully than I had planned, and I immediately feel bad when Forrest looks horrified. "Okay, I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell. This just really hurts, and it seems to be getting worse."

I wince as another wave of pain hits me, but Forrest shakes his head.

"Uh, no, it's okay. You can yell. I don't think you need to apologize, seeing as how you're about to give birth," Forrest answers unhelpfully, still not calling anyone. "Mom, you want help? I can go back and grab Willow."

"Yes, please. Grab her and some towels on your way back in. Holly, head back to bed unless you want to help, too. Or at the very least keep an eye out for Zander so he doesn't wander in here and get an eyeful."

"Okay," Holly answers, sounding like she's on another planet. Her eyes are glued to me, big and wide. "Is Everly going to be alright?"

"She'll be fine," Eden answers soothingly, her hand still on my arm, mostly keeping me upright. "She just needs a minute to…"

"I'm fine," I grit out, and I close my eyes as the pressure increases, until I am very sure I might collapse right here. "You know what? I don't think I'm in labor. I think it's just… the tea I had. It isn't sitting well."

"Yeah, that's definitely not the tea," Forrest answers seriously, and I notice he's pulled out his phone. "And, uh, I don't have Eric's number. You and he both must have forgotten to give it to me, which is odd considering he and I are brothers now. Funny, I don't have his email, either."

"Will you just… Forrest, it's in my phone. Just use mine!" I plead, but my words are pointless. I turn to look at my mother with a horrified expression, and I have to blink back the tears as I place one hand on my stomach and the other on the doorframe. "Mom… I'm… he's…"

I can barely speak, let alone think, as I realize that there's no point in Forrest getting Willow or calling anyone.

"Forrest, towels, now," my mother orders. "Bring them up, but knock before you come in. It won't be long now. Holly, either move it or get ready to hold Everly's hand."

"Okay," Forrest tells her, and I swear he still sounds like he's insulted he doesn't have Eric's phone number.

"Okay," Holly repeats, still standing there in her nightgown, looking like she might barf. "Okay."

"Okay." I sound hysterical now, growing more so when my mother's words are right.

A half hour later, I give birth to my baby in my childhood home.


	63. Welcome Home, Baby Coulter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your patience while waiting for this chapter. My own training was out of control, and I've never been so happy to return to my normal, boring work schedule. 
> 
> Major thanks to BK2U for editing this, especially with all you have going on!! 
> 
> *Before jumping in, I would suggest going back and rereading the last section of the previous chapter to refresh your memory. Also, this chapter is long, so long that it's been split up. There's one more final chapter after this one :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been following along!

"Everly."

I open up my eyes to a blurry Eric, and I have to blink a few times to try and rouse myself from my deep sleep. I feel beyond exhausted, like he's made me run laps for months on end and then let me sleep for only twenty minutes before shoving me awake. I swear I only just closed my eyes, blearily handing the baby to my mother at some unknown hour, and I have no desire to get up just because he's saying my name.

"EVERLY!"

This time he hisses my name and I swat at him, hoping he'll be quiet.

He may not have known it, and he probably didn't, but I'd given birth only hours earlier. All of Eric's brilliant and perfectly scheduled plans to have our child in Erudite vanished the moment the contractions came quicker and quicker, until they were so painful that I couldn't see straight. I faintly remember feeling a nauseating wave of panic when I realized I wouldn't be going far, and it only grew worse when the next contraction was so bad that I thought I'd throw up. For one second, I had held onto the strange hope that I'd at least make it to the birthing center.

Never in a million years did I imagine giving birth in Amity, let alone in the house I'd grown up in. I'd always squashed that thought down because it would have meant staying in Amity. It would have meant a life with Landon, of farming and crops, of smelling like dirt and wildflowers, and of spending each day dying a little bit on the inside.

Then again, I'd never really dreamt of giving birth in Dauntless, either. My whole intent in going there had been to be happy: to find myself — to live a life that meant something more than working as just another quiet member of Amity and getting lost in the crowd of reds, browns, and golds — and to become someone other than just Landon's girlfriend. Never in a million years did I think that I'd be singled out as the only female in my initiation class, forced to train with Eric, and eventually find myself so in love with him that I'd be having his baby in the middle of the hallway while he was off investigating strange noises in the dead of night.

"Everly, wake up. Eric is home and the baby is awake." I hear my mother's voice now, and I want nothing more than to stay sleeping, or maybe dreaming. This doesn't quite feel real, except I know that it is.

"Honey, wake up."

"What?" I finally open both of my eyes and sit up slowly. I feel like I've been hit by a truck, and I find myself under the sharp stares of both Eric and my mother. She looks enthused; bright-eyed and cheery despite having been up all night with me. He looks pale and tired, his uniform still on and his hair a mess, and he's beside me with a very tight expression on his face.

"I'll be right back. I'll go get…"

I barely hear the rest of what my mother is saying. I turn to face Eric, reaching for him, grasping his jacket and yanking him towards me as though I haven't seen him in months. There is no hesitation on his part; he gives in immediately, wrapping an arm around me and digging one large hand into my hair. He still smells good despite hours of trekking through the outskirts of Amity, so I bury my face in his chest and hope that someone finally got hold of him and that he didn't just stumble in here and discover his child had been born and no one bothered to tell him.

"What happened? Did it go okay? Did you find anyone out there?"

I ask these questions against his chest, taking the opportunity to close my eyes again. Sleep is lingering behind them, and it's nearly impossible not to give in to the temptation to let myself fall back asleep against his chest. It feels like he's holding his breath, and he lets it out sharply.

"It was…Everly…it was fine but that's the least of my concerns right now," he mutters, his fingers tangling in my hair. "I'm… I'm sorry I wasn't here. I hope you aren't… I hope you'll forgive me for missing the birth of our son."

I nod against him. His fingers dig in further and I feel him take a deep, slow breath, as if preparing for me to let him have it.

But I'm not about to.

In all honesty, I'm not at all mad at him. Giving birth had been completely out of my control. Not to mention, the thought of Eric standing there while I had the baby was overwhelming. I wouldn't have minded having him hold my hand while he stood to the side, but giving birth had been far more painful than I'd ever imagined. Without any sort of medication or any fancy Erudite nurses, I'd pushed through it on my own, nearly losing my mind until the blissful moment when it was finally over. Had he been there, there's no doubt that Eric would have panicked; there was a lot of blood, a lot of pain, and quite a few shrieks that I had no idea I was capable of making.

He would have hated it. My childhood bedroom isn't at all sterilized, and I know he'd wanted a very controlled and clean childbirth, with his father waiting in the wings, and an entire staff on hand in case anything went wrong. He wouldn't have been at all happy to have him born here, with women who had nowhere near the experience his father did; the only help they provided was to tell me to breathe and remind me how strong I was.

Luckily for all of us, nothing had gone wrong.

I'd had our son in my mother's home, and I'd clutched him to my chest, too tired and too delirious to care that both of us were a mess. Despite the pain I had endured, staring down at his head made me feel like I could conquer the world. I'd held onto him tightly, my legs shaking and my vision blurring with tears, clinging to this fragile new baby for dear life. The whole experience felt surreal; it was made up of long moments of excruciating agony, but then, just when I thought I couldn't stand one more moment, it was done, almost as quickly as it had started.

And while I wasn't surrounded by Eric and a topnotch medical staff whose education could rival Jeanine's, Forrest had come through, bringing not just towels, but also a few familiar women to help my mother. They had been quiet and gentle, brushing my hair back and out of the way once it was all over, murmuring words of encouragement, and eventually offering to help take him when I was ready for a break.

The reality is that I barely remember any of it. I know there were whispers of delight in the dimly lit room once he was out and on my chest. They oohed and aahed over the baby, and I was so relieved it was over that I found my eyes slipping shut, at least until someone roused me and told me they were going to help clean me up. I vaguely remember being relieved to wash the blood off of me as I stood on wobbly legs. Someone handed me a nightgown and helped me back into bed. At some point, these women even helped me nurse the baby for the first time, all of their efforts very kind, considering I must have looked like a zombie. I remember thinking that someone should have gotten hold of Eric by then, and that maybe he wasn't there because something bad had happened. I never got my answer because I fell back to sleep, still clutching my newborn as though someone would try to take him from me.

Which they did.

At some point, someone came in and picked him up so I could really sleep. If I had to guess, I'd say they held him for the next few hours. It couldn't have been long at all, for I swear I'd only just shut my eyes, making sure he was snug against my chest before I fell asleep.

Now, as I sit up, I realize my mother is standing in the doorway and talking quietly to someone behind her, instructing them to call Johanna. She sounds proud and happy, not the least bit tired despite the fact that she hasn't slept at all.

"Why would I be mad at you, Eric? It just happened. I felt fine when you left, but I felt sick before bed, and then… I woke up and I was in labor. I'm sorry we didn't make it to Erudite," I apologize softly, knowing full well he expects no apology. "I guess he just decided that this morning was the perfect time to be born."

My husband is silent, and I crane my head to look up at him. I can tell he's not entirely reassured by my words, so I smile sleepily and lean back into him.

Eric looks down at me for a split second before he shakes his head. "I'm the one who owes you the apology. I should have been here. Your mother told me it happened quickly. She said everything went fine. That you did great, and that the baby is healthy."

"Where is he?" I ask, still trying to force myself to wake up.

"I don't know. I haven't even seen him yet. We had just gotten back and Forrest was waiting. He told me what happened and I came straight here to find you. We didn't have much reception where we were. I thought I'd come home to find you sleeping. Which I did."

"Yeah, I fell asleep right after. But I didn't know they took him." I frown, and I sit up a bit straighter. "I am so tired, I really don't remember much of it."

"It's all right." He swallows, his gaze swinging to Eden. She's walking over to us slowly, and I can only stare at the baby swaddled in her arms. "We can… meet him now. Together."

His voice sounds unlike anything I've ever heard. I was used to him barking and snapping at people, or the dry intonation that snuck through because he wasn't impressed with what anyone was saying. I was even used to the Eric who growled at those around him, who rarely spoke with anything but sharp, authoritative tones, or who sounded exasperated when he was questioned. Or better yet, the Eric who muttered sleepily against my skin, or quietly told me he loved me when he thought I was sleeping.

But he sounds different now — quiet and sort of hopeful, as though this moment was something he'd been awaiting for a very long time.

My mother walks over to us with a huge grin on her face, and I can just tell that nothing will ever top this moment. Her grandchild, born in her home, one that she never would have thought she'd ever really see, is nestled in her arms. But there is no smugness on her part, simply pure joy and happiness.

"Did you pick out a name yet? She looks just like you, Everly."

"No, Eric did—" I start, but Eric nearly knocks me over when he sits up perfectly straight.

"He," Eric interjects, and he tenses up as his fingers dig into my arm, the irritation at her mistake evident on his face. "Why did you say 'she'?"

"No, I mean she. Look at her." My mother's joy isn't at all dampened by Eric's confusion. She holds the baby in front of us, and I slowly realize the pink blanket isn't just something she had lying around.

"Um, what? Eric… but… you said… I thought the baby was a boy?" I turn to look at Eric, and I can see his mind whirling. His stare is fixed on the baby in her arms, his eyebrows furrowed together. He'd never outright said our child was a boy, but he'd never corrected me when I'd referred to the baby as 'he'.

But the look on his face tells me he was very much expecting the baby to be a boy as well.

"They… told me it was a boy. I have an ultrasound photo that says boy on it." His eyes widen slightly, and the shock is evident when he swings his stare to me. "They said… that tech said…"

"Well, I guess your fancy ultrasound tech was wrong! It's a girl! Congratulations! She's beautiful!" my mother continues on, ignoring the panicky expression that is slipping over Eric's face the longer she stands there. "Here, do you want to hold her?"

His head turns so he can look at me, then back at the baby, then back at me before nodding his head and reaching his arms out.

"Okay."

"Eric…" I start, watching as my mother hands him his daughter. It looks like it's happening in slow motion; she takes great care to hand him the baby gently, correctly assuming he's never held a newborn, and makes sure he's got a hold on her before she steps back to watch the scene in front of her. I don't blame her one bit. I shift to the side slightly, staring at Eric with wide eyes.

"She's a girl," I repeat. I sound stupid, though I blame the sleep deprivation and exhaustion.

"She is a girl," Eric answers me, bowing his head down. He holds her carefully; his arms are still outstretched a tiny bit before he pulls her closer to him.

He's still staring at her, examining her face with great scrutiny, and he narrows his eyes at the soft pink bow someone's placed around her head. Her dark hair was a mess when I caught a glimpse of it hours ago, but now someone has washed it and brushed it over to the side. She looks miniscule in his hands, though it certainly felt like she weighed twelve pounds when I was giving birth.

For a long time, the room is quiet, as no one dares to utter a word. Eric keeps watching her, until he very gingerly touches her cheek and raises his head and turns to me.

"She looks… just like you." His voice sounds strangled and raw, and he looks at me and swallows hard. "Everly, she's…"

He doesn't finish what he's saying. He returns to staring down at her, holding her closer against him, the pink blanket bright against his black jacket.

She's certainly not a boy.

She stares up at Eric, and I can't help but break into a wide grin at the sight. She does look just like me, but I think she looks a little like Eric, too. She doesn't cry, she just looks at him with this critical expression on her face, as though she's examining him right back.

"I combed her hair and dressed her. She's going to want to eat soon, and then the three of you should get some sleep. I'm assuming you'll stay here for a few days." My mother sits down on the end of the bed and grins kindly at Eric and me. "We can make arrangements for you to stay elsewhere if you'd like. But I think it would be good for all of you to stay with us. I can help you out until Everly's recovered, and you won't have to worry about cooking or trekking back here to bring her over. The kids can stay with Forrest, so it'll be quiet. He's already agreed to take them over to his house when they wake up."

Eric cocks an eyebrow at me and I can feel the happy warm bubble I've been in about to burst. He's probably dying to announce we'll be heading to Erudite, then Dauntless, as soon as I am ready to get up from this bed.

Unsurprisingly, he shakes his head.

"Can you give us a minute?" he asks her, barely looking up.

My mother nods, and I hope she knows his question was asked in the most polite tone I've ever heard from him.

"Of course. I was thinking you might want to call your dad as well and let him know she was born today." Eden smooths the skirt over her knees before she grins widely. "Actually, maybe you should call in a few hours. It's pretty early right now."

"Were there any complications?" Eric asks, and he looks me over quickly. "Everly, do you feel alright? Are you okay? Do you need to go—"

"I'm fine. I'm really tired and sore, but I'm fine. I don't think there were any complications," I answer, and I lean towards him and the baby. She's still staring up at him, her blue eyes blinking every so often. After a second she yawns, apparently having grown bored with this conversation.

"There were none. None that would require you to run her off to Erudite," my mother tells us. Her voice has taken on a strangely sharp tone, and I can feel Eric stiffen.

"I'm not running her off anywhere. I'd like my father to know he has… he has a granddaughter. I'd also like her vaccinated as soon as possible, and for Everly to be checked out."

It's my mother's turn to stiffen, and she crosses her arms over her chest.

"I don't think that's necessary right now. She's only a few hours old, and Everly is fine. I made sure myself."

"You know what, let me feed her and we'll finish this up in a little bit. I'd like to talk to Eric before we make a decision on where we're going or what we're injecting anybody with."

I interrupt the two of them before they can become too heated. I'm much too tired to mediate a debate right now, and while I know my mother will be respectful of whatever we decide to do, I have to confess that her offer is very alluring. I don't have enough energy to go anywhere, nor do I want to. I like the idea of having my mother nearby, especially considering my baby was born just hours ago. I also greatly dislike the idea of having her vaccinated when I don't even know with what, or why.

"Eric?" I ask, and he looks up, his eyes wary.

"Alright."

"Alright." My mother mirrors Eric's answer reluctantly, but she gives us the space we need. She stands up and glances at her watch. "Take all the time you need. I'll be downstairs if either of you need anything."

"Thank you," Eric mutters. "Thanks for uh… being there for Everly."

"Of course." My mother leaves the room, only glancing back once. I know she's praying we'll stay, and it would kill her if we were to leave for Erudite in the morning. The idea of injecting her granddaughter with something probably isn't sitting too well with her, either.

"Eric, we... I think…" I pause, not really sure what to say. He's still holding our daughter, and he slowly unwraps the blankets. My mother has swaddled her, and she must like it, because she immediately scrunches her nose when he undoes her work. He carefully lifts her up, and I silently laugh at the pink pajamas she's been dressed in and how funny they look against his black uniform. "I want to stay here."

The corners of his lips turn up the slightest bit, and I'm not sure if it's at me or our daughter.

"We can stay, Everly," he answers quietly, holding his daughter up to his chest. He swallows again, and his large hand covers most of her back. "I'll call Daniel sometime today. I'll tell him to come here and visit."

"Okay." I relax at his words, grateful he's not in a hurry to leave. "That's a good idea. Maybe he'll enjoy coming here." I watch him carefully, and I can't help but stare at him, not wanting to look away. "But I don't think she needs any vaccinations. Not yet."

Eric finally tears his stare away from her, and he looks at me with a familiar expression of amusement.

"Are you sure you should be making decisions about getting shots? Don't you have a terrible track record with that?"

I laugh at his teasing, nudging him with my elbow and settling down beside him. The dark pull of exhaustion starts up again, and he must feel the same way because he adjusts himself so he's slumping back onto the pillows.

"You should feed her if she's hungry so you can get some sleep. I should change."

I nod my head in agreement. But he doesn't hand her over, nor does he make any movement that indicates he's ready to pass her to me. He simply sits beside me, holding her against him.

It's almost too much for me to look at. He's much too large for this tiny little Amity bed, and he looks too large to be holding such a tiny creature against him, especially one in pink pajamas. I rise up so I can really look at him for a second, taking in this moment and trying to memorize every detail: the way he looks at her and me, the way he's lit up by the lamp that's been beside my bed since I was eight, the way he smiles, really smiles when she makes a tiny little noise of contentment at being held so closely.

Eventually, after a very long time of us just sitting here, Eric prepares to hand her over. He waits until she grows fussy, no longer happy to be against her father and demanding to eat, before he finally gives her up.

The three of us fall asleep sometime as the sun rises, her against my chest and me against Eric's. I fall completely asleep after Eric does, lulled by the beating of his heart and the pale sunlight rising in the distance.

It feels right, oh so right, that she was born here.

 

 

"She's not cute. She should go HOME!"

Zander shrieks the words at me as he runs around after being scolded for the third time to be careful of the baby. He's put out, having been the baby of the family for so long, that she is cramping his style and cutting into the attention that he'd normally get.

"Zander, that's not nice," Forrest lazily reprimands, propping up his feet on the barrel in front of him. He's holding Woody on his knees, and he bounces him up and down while Zander continues to run around and shriek about the intruder in his home. "She's brand new, buddy. She won't be here forever. Everly and Eric are only staying for a few days. Soak it up, because your big sis and Eric will be returning to Dauntless with her in a few days, and you'll miss them all."

"Never. Not even Eric," Zander answers defiantly, and he sounds exactly how Eric sounded when someone asked him if he wanted to borrow a clean shirt. "I want to see the trucks, no baby! Trucks! Trucks! Trucks!"

I briefly close my eyes as he chants the word loudly, jumping down the front steps of the porch and launching himself into the dirt. He seems pleased with this activity, so he does it again and again, eventually growing bored and running off to the back of the house, giving Forrest and me a moment of blessed silence.

"Be glad you had a girl," Forrest tells me, trying to keep Woody on his lap. "Willow's pregnant again, and she thinks it's another boy. At this rate, we'll never sleep."

"Or, you'll never sleep because you'll have two kids under two." I laugh, holding my daughter closer and reclining back in the oversized wicker chair. The patio is warm and quiet, except for the occasional yell from my little brother, and it's the perfect spot to watch Amity from a distance. The community has been very respectful and stayed away, or maybe they haven't heard the news yet. Either way, I'm more than happy to sit here, baby in my arms, and watch them from afar.

"Hey, you guys… umm… you guys pick a name yet? Or you just gonna call her 'baby' for the rest of her life?" Forrest asks, and he hands Woody a piece of something to chew on. "Eric ever pony up the name, or did it not work for a girl?"

"We've got nothing." I wrinkle my nose at him, peering down at my daughter. She's sound asleep, warmly wrapped up in the prettiest blanket I've ever seen, her dark eyelashes fluttering every so often. I've been thinking about her name ever since I woke up. All morning, I've been feeling sort of guilty that even though she isn't even close to twenty-four hours old, she still doesn't have a name.

Everyone has been asking, including Paisley and Holly. They both offered up several suggestions, all very Amity-sounding, and all while Eric wasn't in the room. Having him stay in my mother's house has been interesting, even if we've only been here for a day. Eric seems to take up all the space, seems to be a constant magnet for my family members to corner, and he's struggling with the fact that his father hasn't answered his phone calls. I watched him throw his phone at the bed, press his palms into his eyes, and snarl that he wasn't calling him again. I couldn't fathom what Daniel was doing or why he wasn't answering. I tried to reassure him that he was probably at the hospital or maybe in surgery, but I could see that Eric was bothered. To top it off, the name he'd picked, one meant to so sweetly honor my father, didn't exactly work for a girl.

"We haven't picked one yet," I tell Forrest, and I pull my knees up beneath me.

Forrest and I have been sitting on the enclosed patio for a good half hour now, ever since he brought everyone over here after patiently waiting for Willow to finish throwing up. He'd been entertaining both Woody and Zander, trying his best to keep Zander from destroying the house, and he was delightedly smug when he realized my baby was a girl. He'd immediately told me that Eric and I should try for another one as soon as possible, pointing out that with Eric's luck, we'd have nothing but girls.

"Everly, would you like some tea?" my mother offers, stepping halfway out onto the patio, looking serene at the sight before her. "How wonderful that you two are getting to catch up. Let me make you both a snack."

She retreats without a word, thrilled that we are all here.

Staying in Amity is the smartest decision I've ever made. I was relieved at my mother's offer of help, and it had come in much handier than I could have imagined. She fought off Eric and encouraged him to go have some coffee, and when she won out, she sat and held the baby while I showered. Somehow, she still managed to make Eric and me breakfast, and afterwards she'd helped me figure out the best and easiest ways to nurse the baby. She also had a strangely large amount of newborn baby girl clothes, and an endless supply of blankets.

"You have anything planned today? Are you visiting Sophia and Courtney?" Forrest asks.

"I don't have anything planned today." I shake my head, settling further into the chair. I found myself so content with my daughter that it was easy to sit here and hold her and forget about everything else. I knew I had plenty of time to see my friends, and to be honest, I was in no real hurry to go anywhere.

I knew Eric felt the same way, though I hated that I noticed a troubled expression on his face. It popped up a few times while he was holding her, his brows furrowed together and his eyes darkening like he was thinking of something. For a horrifying moment, I thought maybe he still wished she was a boy, that he'd come back to a son, someone to carry on his name or follow in his footsteps. I'd had to bite back the words that she could do anything a boy could do, because I knew he was still irritable. He was annoyed that his father hadn't called back, and even more so that he'd been given the wrong information at the doctor's office, and there was little doubt that our ultrasound tech soon wouldn't have a job. But other than that, he appeared to be enamored with her. He held her quite often, and he was quiet, spending most of his time touching her hair or her cheek and smiling when he didn't think anyone was around to see him grin.

"I'm just worried we'll pick the wrong name. I'm worried Eric and I won't agree on one, or it won't fit her."

"It will," Forrest reassures me, and he watches as Zander runs back around, managing to jump into every single muddy puddle he can find. "I'm sure you guys will come up with the perfect name. And if not, you can give her a nickname. Or she'll change factions and go by something else. So really, there's no reason to stress over it."

I side-eye him over her, shaking my head.

"Funny." I roll my eyes, but I sit up straighter when I see Eric walking back up to the house, accompanied by Four. "Hey, they're back."

"Who's back?" Forrest nosily sits up, squinting out at the walkway. "Oh, it's Eric and his best friend."

"Something like that." I laugh, standing up and holding on tightly to the baby while carefully heading towards the steps. I can see the two of them walking along, and they both look annoyed. I can only assume it's with each other, but they manage to perk up when they see me.

"Aren't you cold?" Eric asks, not bothering to greet me any other way. He takes the steps two at a time, leaving Four to patiently wait for him at the bottom of the steps with a sullen look on his face. Eric bounds up next to me, and he wraps his arms around me, careful not to crush the baby. "It's freezing out and you don't have shoes on."

"I'm okay. For once, I'm not cold. It's warm on the patio." I grin up at him, happy when he bends down to kiss the top of my head. He very carefully keeps the baby and me against him, and he only lets go when Four joins us.

"Hi, Four! I thought you would have gone back to Dauntless," I happily greet him, even though I notice he has the same weird expression that Eric had earlier this morning when I held up a tiny pink outfit for the baby to wear. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine," Eric tells me, but Four is still staring, his blue eyes fixed on me.

I suddenly feel self-conscious, something that I've rarely felt. I wonder if maybe Four thinks I should be dressed, and I mentally kick myself for putting on another nightgown and sweater. I'd been grateful when my mother helped me detangle my hair, and I hadn't bothered to put shoes on since I wasn't leaving the house. I realize that I've never looked more like I came from Amity than right now, and I wonder if this was what they both saw that first day I came to Dauntless.

"You both have this weird look on your faces," I inform them and Eric rolls his eyes.

"That's just Four's normal face."

Four scowls at Eric out of the corner of his eye, counts to one billion, and sighs in annoyance.

"We're fine. I, uh, I'm staying until tomorrow. I had some stuff to finish up with the reports, and Johanna wanted us here another day in case there was any more activity. I'll head back when she's confident things are good. But I wanted to come by and say congratulations. Eric told me… he told me you had a girl."

He says the last part strangely, his voice reminding me of the time he told me to be careful of Eric. I notice his eyes fall to my daughter, and he makes the exact same face as Eric was making earlier, though he tries very hard to keep his expression neutral.

"Tris and I," he pauses, looking at Eric pointedly, "we thought you were having a boy."

"We did, too. We were wrong, I guess," I answer him brightly, feeling a bit suspicious when he nods, his eyes now glued to the bow in her dark hair. He slowly examines her, chewing on his lip as I stare at him. He and Eric both have identically worried looks on their faces, and their gazes are both fixed on her. "Eric says she looks like me, but I think—"

"She looks exactly like you," Four answers flatly, and he looks up at me. "She's, uh, she looks like a miniature Everly. Except she's… the daughter of Eric."

"Thank you for that astute observation," Eric snaps, and he takes a very defensive step towards me. He stands beside me, so we're facing off against Four, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "She does look like Everly. Just like Adam looks like you."

The two of them stare at each other in silence. I ignore the snickering I can hear coming from Forrest, and I remind myself that maybe Four is just a little tired. After all, they have been working for most of the night.

"Do you want to hold her?" I ask Four, and Eric shakes his head violently.

"No, he does not," he answers pointedly, and Four does his best to not look exasperated.

"Thank you, but I don't want to get her dirty. I really should go and take a shower. I've been out in the mud and the water, and I feel disgusting."

"Okay," I tell him, but neither of them move. "Really, what is wrong with you two? I feel like I'm missing something here."

"Nothing is wrong," Four insists, exhaling sharply. "She's beautiful. I'm very happy for you and Eric. Tris will be… very excited to hear the news."

"You'll tell her for me?" I ask him, realizing I have no clue where my phone is. I haven't been doing much of anything, and I can't remember the last time I picked it up or where I've even left it. "I haven't messaged anyone yet."

"I wouldn't worry about that. But of course, I'll tell her."

"Eric, can you help me with something?" My mother reappears from inside, her hands full of laundry. "Will you help me carry this around back? I want to make sure everyone has clean sheets for tonight. Everly, your tea is almost ready. Forrest, yours too. Oh hello, dear. Are you lost?"

She looks at Four in delight, his sudden presence on her porch more than welcome.

"No, Mom, he's… this is Four. He's a friend of ours from Dauntless," I tell her, ignoring the look of amusement crossing Eric's face. "Actually, you met him at our anniversary party."

"That's weird. I don't remember you at all. Maybe you had different hair then," my mother cheerfully tells him, and Four presses his lips together in a fine line.

"He had the same hair," I tell her, and I try to change the subject. "He just had a baby, too! He and our friend Tris have a little boy named Adam."

"Wow, Everly, you and Eric certainly have a lot of the same friends," Forrest comments from his seat, surely enjoying the show. Eric clears his throat, throwing him a dirty look. "Baby friends, too. That's what I see in your future."

"How darling!" my mother exclaims, and Eric takes a step away from us.

"I'll see you back in Dauntless. Let me know if Johanna has any more issues," Eric commands, giving Four one final, threatening stare.

"Will do." Four watches as Eric steps away. Easily taking the laundry basket from my mother, he follows her down the stairs, looking pained.

"Did he say something to you?" I ask Four curiously, taking a step closer and trying to interpret the weird look on his face. "He's been really touchy about the baby, and I know he was surprised we had a girl and—"

"Everly," Four says slowly, and he looks like he doesn't want to say anything else. But he does, very reluctantly. "He… just think about. He knows you're going to want Adam to play with her. Tris is counting down the minutes until they can hang out. Eric, he's just… not thrilled about the idea."

"You can't be serious," I tell him, taking a step back. "He's not that worked up over them playing together."

Four shrugs and looks past me. "I get it. If your baby had been a boy, he and Adam would probably end up hating each other. I mean, Eric and I are fine now — I don't have a problem with him, and I think he's gotten past our issues. But, he's thinking… that our kids might be friendly or want to hang out, or that someday they'll compete against each other…"

"She's a day old. I don't think she cares about making friends right now, nor does she know what faction she'll pick," I point out, and I have to shake my head at the ridiculousness of the situation. "You both need to relax."

"Maybe. But congratulations again. She really is pretty. Tris will be really excited to see her." Four relaxes slightly, hopefully realizing he and Eric have been silently worrying about something that won't happen for years. "I'll tell her you're doing great and that you'll see her soon. And that the baby is perfect."

"Thank you," I tell him, pleased that he sounds genuinely happy for me. He shoves his hands in his pockets and nods as Forrest approaches us, his face lit up in recognition.

"Well, well, well, look who it is! Fourteen! What's up, my man? I see you still look… confused. But congrats on the baby," Forrest greets him cheerfully, slapping him on the shoulder while Woody tries to escape from his grip, drooling all over the stick he's been chewing on. "Welcome to Amity. Hey, maybe I can show you around. You didn't show me around Dauntless, but that's cool. I'll give you a tour here."

"That's a great idea," I tell Four, smiling at the way he's struggling to think of a way to politely decline. "I'm going to take her inside anyway. It's starting to get cold out here."

"Everly, are you sure… aren't you two having tea or something?" Four sounds a bit desperate, but I smile as I take a step back to head inside.

"Have fun!"

"Everly!" Four says my name urgently, but I wave goodbye, ignoring the fact that Forrest is about to drag him through all of Amity and then some, all before poor Four can take a shower. I head in through the door, wondering if Eric and Four will ever calm down, before finally deciding to not worry about it.

Adam and our daughter will be friends, whether Eric and Four like it or not.

 

 

 

My night is blissful.

My mother keeps her word, and the kids are shooed out and over to Forrest's house. Willow must be done barfing, and Forrest definitely doesn't care about his house being overrun with his siblings. I know he's happy to give everyone a break. Holly is allowed to stay at home, but only because after witnessing the birth of her niece, she's decided to follow in my mother's footsteps, and she's been trying to keep careful notes about everything. She only asks me a few questions, though Eric's head turns every time he hears the words bleeding or stitches.

The house is oddly quiet as Eric takes a shower, and I lie on the bed next to the baby, enjoying a few minutes with just her. I try to run through a list of names that could possibly work, but nothing comes to mind. I'd been fully prepared to go with whatever name Eric came up with for our son, so trying to think up a girl's name seems impossible.

"You okay out there?" Eric yells from the bathroom, and I beam down at the baby as she waves a fist in the air. For her first few hours on Earth, she's been very easygoing, happy as long as she's being held, especially by Eric.

"Fine," I call back, and she stretches out, content that my attention is on her. "I'm just trying to think of a name for her."

He says something from the shower that I don't catch since I've busied myself with staring at her tiny face. I try to imagine her older, with the same long hair I have, and the same intense stare that her father has. I wonder if she'll be kind, or if she'll share Eric's aversion to the general public. Will she one day tell us that she's choosing to leave Dauntless for another faction, or will she stay with us, fighting her way to the very top? There is no doubt that if she stays, Eric will do anything in his power to make sure she ranks first. I laugh at myself for thinking such thoughts, considering she's got years ahead of her before she'll ever have to ponder anything of the sort.

"Did you decide on anything?"

I look up from the bed, catching sight of Eric in the doorway to the bathroom. He's got a toothbrush in his mouth, a towel wrapped around his waist, and he leans casually against the door frame. He observes us from a distance, patiently waiting for me to answer.

"Not really." I frown, wishing I had a better response. "I'm not sure what to name her. I don't want it to sound like she's from Amity, but I don't want her name to be like 'Killer' or something."

"Killer. Killer Coulter," Eric repeats, and he laughs around the toothbrush. "I like it."

I hear him spit out the toothpaste and I pick her up, preparing to feed her. I feel a rush of gratitude that we've stayed here and not hurried home. I know it must feel weird for Eric to willingly agree to stay in Amity, but he's taking it all in stride. Maybe now is my chance to suggest that her name should have some Amity-ness to it, to honor where she was born.

"Everly?" he calls out.

"Yeah?" I pick up her up, examining just how small she really is, and I wonder if she'll stay little for a long time. Her hands and feet seem miniscule, much smaller than I was expecting.

"I have a name," Eric announces, sauntering over towards the bed and us. He pauses next to the bed, standing there in nothing but his boxers. I wonder who the poor soul was that was sent to fetch his clothes, and whether they'd brought any of mine along with his.

"I thought you'd settled on Killer." I grin as he sits beside me, reclining with his hands behind his head. He watches as she makes a fussing sound, but she latches on easily, paying no attention to him. "No?"

"No." He reaches out, pulling on the ends of my hair and wrapping them around his fingers. He props one knee up, and he nudges me with it. "Evangelina."

I tilt my head up to look at him, my own fingers brushing the baby's hair to the side, and I have to confess I'm thrown off. It's certainly not what I expected him to say, especially considering it sounds very pretty.

"Where did that come from?" I ask him, staring at him. He's busy pretending to be very fascinated with my hair, shrugging when I elbow him.

"It's… nice. It reminds me of your name. And it starts with an E. It sounds just a little better than Killer. Then again, we could always make Killer her middle name."

I can't help but smile, because he looks oh-so-serious, and I know he's given this major thought. I feel sort of warm and happy that he'd want all of our names to start with an E, and I have to agree that the name is pretty.

"What do you think?" he asks, still inspecting my hair as though it's the most fascinating object in this room.

"I like it," I tell him honestly. "I felt like it was going to be impossible to pick something that suited her." I lean into him, settling into his side.

"Good. I'm glad you like it. I felt the same way. It's a lot bigger of a decision than I was thinking it would be," he answers, sounding far away. His fingers lazily twirl through my hair, and I close my eyes. I think back to the times I'd sat on his couch, nervous and unsure of my place in his life, and the way he'd reach over to touch me on so many occasions, silently asking me to stay with him, silently telling me he wanted me there.

I think back to the very first time I saw him, his grey eyes sliding up and down my dress with a scathing expression, and I feel myself start to relax.

I wonder if he had known then, or if someone had told him that this was how we would end up, whether he would have acted any differently. Would he have trained me the same way? Kept up our grueling pace that left me nodding off on his couch? Or would he have maybe made me run a few less laps if he knew I'd end up becoming his wife?

His fingers finally let go of my hair, untangling themselves so he can pull me even closer to him, and I realize I've never needed to worry.

He's always chosen me, ever since day one.

 

Of course, Daniel's visit is quite the ordeal.

First thing the next morning, he shows up in a whirlwind. Much to Zander's delight, he shows up with his own version of an army, all dressed in royal blue. The cars arrive just after breakfast, sleek and shiny, out of place amongst the ancient Amity work trucks. From the window, I catch sight of him walking down the dirt path, his blue jacket crisply ironed and his hair perfectly parted. He hesitates for the briefest of seconds when he finds the house he's looking for, his gaze taking in the surroundings before he walks up the steps with a determined look on his face.

I'm not even sure who greets him or opens the door for him, but he comes into my mother's house enthusiastically, followed by what must be his entire medical staff. Nurse after nurse, all in blue, all with very concerned expressions on their faces. A few more doctors, all in white, glance around curiously. A man that looks an awful lot like him, with a laptop and a clipboard, quietly talks to the woman beside him.

Who just so happens to be Camille.

She smiles in recognition at me, and I smile back, even though there's a spark of fear running through me. This feels far more frightening than anything I'd encountered in Dauntless, but I am fully prepared to bolt if I need to. As they seem to fill up every empty inch of my mother's living room, I clutch Evangelina tighter, not at all willing to hand her over and subject her to whatever it is he brought them here to do. I take a step behind Eric, and I decide I will very vocally remind him that we decided to wait on a few things.

Borrowing a page out of Eden's book, I had declined Eric's offer to take Evangelina to Erudite. I'm not so much afraid that we'll be attacked or that Daniel will want to keep her there, I just don't see the need to give her a single shot, to submit her to the million tests he'll want to run, or to stay in a hospital when I'm perfectly fine and content in my own bed. It's happy and quiet here, warm and welcoming, and not the least bit sterilized. I want tea that my mother makes, I want Eric sleeping beside me in nothing but boxers that he made someone bring him, and I want Evangelina to spend a few days not being poked and prodded.

I have Eric mostly convinced.

He agreed that things were fine the way they were. He made it very clear he was reluctant to give in on the shots, reminding me that the vaccinations I had gotten had helped me when I needed them to, and he politely pointed out that he didn't want his child to get sick. Ever. But he gave in when I said we could wait, that I just didn't want to do it right then and there. But while he was convinced, I knew his father wouldn't be.

It didn't help that Daniel's arrival was slightly more extravagant than I'd predicted. It wasn't the least bit pretentious, unless you counted his pristine suit and coat, but only because it was Daniel, and I knew his intention was also to keep our baby safe. Just like Eric oozes an air of authority, Daniel oozes an air of distinction combined with abundant and exuberant medical knowledge. He looks serious and intense, but I'm fully prepared to fend him off — as nicely as I can, of course.

"Where is she?" someone asks from the swarm of people, and I can only assume they mean me. My heart sinks when someone answers, and his head snaps in my direction.

"Everly?" Daniel finally notices I'm standing there. He and I lock eyes, and the look on his face, one of utmost professionalism, tells me he's going to ask us to go along with him.

But that all falls away the moment Daniel sees her.

His expression changes almost immediately; gone is the skilled surgeon who's come to whisk his grandchild away to make sure she's clinically and medically perfect, and in his place is a man laying eyes on something he never thought he'd have.

His whole face slips the same way Eric's does. His eyes open wide, fixing themselves to her, and his lips part.

"Eric?"

Daniel says Eric's name softly, completing ignoring the medical team behind him. They look ready, just waiting to see her, and a few eye us curiously when we don't move. Only Daniel takes a step forward, stopping just in front of Eric and he cocks his head to the side.

"That's…her?" He sounds as confused as Eric did, but his face is lit up in utter delight. "You had a girl?"

He steps even closer, pushing his glasses up as Eric nods.

"Yeah, the tech in Dauntless read the ultrasound wrong. She's a girl."

"A girl." Daniel nods, and I can tell he's lost in thought. After a few seconds, he turns to his medical staff and very loudly instructs them to leave. "I'll call you if I need anything."

He dismisses them without really looking at a single one; the only one who doesn't leave is Camille. She looks at me, her expression kind as she walks up next to him, taking his arm and asking him if he'd like her to have them return to Erudite.

"I can tell you aren't here for a clinical visit." She's not exactly whispering, and she glances at me quickly. "So, I can have them on standby. I think you'll want to stay here and visit for awhile. But I don't think you'll need everyone hanging around Amity. They'll just be getting in the way."

"Yes, thank you. I'll call you if something comes up," he answers her hurriedly, turning back to face me. I can still remember the first time I saw him, sitting next to Blythe in the restaurant. Even back then, he had been kind to me, trying hard to make our dinner a positive experience despite Blythe's determination to destroy me. "Thank you, Camille."

I wait for her to ask to stay, but she doesn't. She nods her head, and then she's gone, her neatly pulled-back hair bouncing along behind her.

"She's fine, everything's good. Everly's mom is… helping, so we're going to stay here for a few days. Were you planning on examining her?"

Eric asks the question I don't want to, and Daniel looks sheepishly at me.

"I was. I have to admit, when I got out of surgery and got the message that Everly had given birth in Amity, I feared the worst. The Amity medical center, for lack of a better description, hasn't been updated in years. I was imagining all sorts of things had gone wrong. Something could have happened, and there's nothing here — no equipment or supplies to handle an emergency situation. Who would have helped her? I knew you'd been planning on having the baby in Erudite, so this was quite a surprise."

"It was a surprise to me as well," Eric answers dryly. "From what I was told, it happened quickly. She woke up not feeling well, and wound up being in labor. But Everly is fine, and Evangelina is fine, and I don't think she needs to go anywhere else. Not for a while."

"You named her Evangelina?" Daniel asks, glancing down at my arms and smiling. "Your mother would hate that name. She'd think that was a mouthful for such a tiny baby. But I like it."

I nod at him, even more pleased with our decision.

"Would you like to hold her?" I ask him, and he follows me over to the couch I'd been sitting on. "She'll probably fall asleep soon. She looks a lot like Eric when she sleeps. She scowls a lot."

"I'd love to. Let me wash my hands quickly." Daniel looks at Eric, then me. "You aren't going anywhere for a while?"

"Nope," Eric answers, and I can detect his lack of enthusiasm, even though I know he's completely fine with staying here. "We're staying put. It's probably a good thing to keep her away from everyone in Dauntless right now. Plus, Eden wanted Everly to recover here."

"Smart," Daniel answers. "I'll be right back. I can always call in a physician to come check you out in a few days, Everly. They wouldn't mind at all."

"Thank you, Daniel." I wait patiently while he heads into the kitchen, and I can hear my mother yelp with delight when she realizes he's here. Eric smirks when he hears her offer him coffee, or tea, or maybe some avocado toast, and he takes the seat beside me.

"I told you he had a reason for not answering."

Eric slings his arm around the back of the couch, then lets it drop down around my shoulders.

"He could have sent a text," he informs me, crossing one leg over the other. He's dressed in casual clothes, and I wonder what peon was sent to rifle through Eric's drawers. "Or had his girlfriend call."

"Do you like her?" I ask curiously, watching the way he shrugs. "What if Daniel decides to marry her? You'd have a stepmom."

Eric looks at me in disgust and shakes his head. "He's happy. I don't need to know the details. He told me she's nice and that she likes you. She thought I was an ass, but that I was a good husband when I showed up and didn't let Blythe berate you in the hospital. I'm thrilled to have her approval, though I couldn't care less if he ever decides to marry her."

He says the last part sarcastically, and I wonder if poor Camille knows what she's getting into.

"She is really nice. She helped me after I got shot," I tell him, adjusting the blanket around Evangelina's arms. "And she's pretty. I bet she'd make you breakfast if we went over there."

He rolls his eyes, utterly unimpressed, and I nudge him when he sighs heavily.

"He deserves… nice. I guess. He and Blythe, they never really were happy together. I think he tried, up to a point. He never gave up, not until there was a reason to. But he was so used to succeeding that he never wanted to admit he was failing at something. Then again, their marriage finally falling apart wasn't a bad thing."

I listen to him ramble on, and I get the feeling he's not specifically talking to me. He's thinking out loud, but it's the most he's ever said about his father's relationship, so I stay quiet, just listening to him. It's rare that he wants to talk about his family like this, without me prompting him. I sink into his chest and nod my head.

"Not all failures are bad. This one showed him that he deserves to be happy. Whether it's with Camille, someone else, or by himself. I hope he marries her."

"He loves you, you know," Eric tells me, sounding amused. "He told me that, right after I found out you were pregnant. He was frantic, thinking it was his fault you got shot while I was thinking the exact same thing. He said you were one of the only people he looked forward to seeing. That his visits with you had changed his life. You gave him a chance when you had no reason to. Now, you've given him a granddaughter, and he's never going to stop coming by unannounced."

His tone tells me he's not too upset about that last part.

"Well, I love him, too. And him coming by unannounced, that's not a bad thing." I yawn, finding myself suddenly sleepy. Evangelina might be a sweet baby, but her feeding schedule is something that will take a few days to get used to. "I think…"

I trail off when Daniel reappears, my mother hot on his heels. She's got cups of coffee in her hands, and Eric rises up to graciously take one. Daniel immediately takes his spot, and I wait until he's settled down before handing her over.

"Don't you think she looks like Eric?"

Daniel holds onto her with ease, pulling her against his chest and staring down at her face. She looks up at him, waving one fist wildly when he reaches for her hand.

"No. She looks just like you. She looks nothing like Eric. That's a good thing."

Daniel sounds thrilled. I laugh when Eric huffs, taking his coffee and staring at his dad.

"I'll leave you two alone. I'm going to go lie down for a few minutes. You can catch up. Come get me if she needs to eat," I tell them, fully ready to collapse onto my bed and sleep for the next century. Daniel and Eric both nod, their attention focused back on Evangelina.

"I'll come check on you in a bit," Eric announces, and I look at the two of them gratefully before I head toward the stairs.

I walk up them slowly, glancing back to catch sight of them, their heads bent together as they look at her. I burn the image into my brain, never wanting to forget it. In fact, it's the last thing I think of before I climb into bed, my eyes shutting immediately.

Right before I fall asleep, I hear them laugh, Daniel's especially loud and happy, and I can't help but think how lucky I am.

 

 

I say goodbye to Amity much as I did when I left here the first time.

I walk with Evangelina down the dirt path, showing her all the places I knew from growing up here: the Dome, the large looming forests, and the lookout points Sophia and Courtney and I spent hours in, the cluster of individual houses and the communal housing for those who seek out the companionship of others, Johanna's rickety office and stables, the lake where I spent my summers, the fields that I avoided like the plague, and finally the gardens.

I walk through them slowly, dressed warmly for once, and I point out all the plants that will eventually return after the winter. She pays zero attention to my fascinating knowledge of the community gardens, going so far as to shut her eyes out of sheer boredom when we walk past an area that was once a sprawling field of wildflowers.

I don't blame her. I tell her I feel the same way she does.

As the sky darkens, Eric finds us in the stables, in front of the lone dark horse.

He comes to a stop beside me, dressed in his Dauntless uniform, the top button undone. His boots crunch over the hay, and his stare is as sharp as his clothes. But he smirks as he approaches us, probably committing the sight of us to his own memory. We'd spent a lot of quiet time together, just him, Evangelina and me, and I couldn't even begin to pick a favorite moment.

"The trucks are here. I thought maybe you'd want to say goodbye to your mother before we leave. Eden is out there looking for you."

My heart sinks. It's definitely not this one.

Not because I want to stay here. There is no part of me that longs for a life in this faction, but there is a strong connection to my mother that makes me hesitant to leave. Eric had really given me the best gift of all by allowing me to spend nearly four days here. I'd never get this time back again, and it felt right to have spent Evangelina's first days on Earth in Amity. I wonder if she'll want to someday visit here, beyond seeing her cousins. She might one day choose Amity, or she may never step foot in here again.

But I want her to know her grandmother, just as she'll know her grandfather. Daniel has the unfair advantage that he can drop by as he pleases, but my mother doesn't. I wonder if Eric would arrange for her to come visit, or care if I had her stay with us.

"Everly, are you okay? Do you want to stay longer?" He looks at me hesitantly, and I'm sure he's praying that I don't tell him I'd like to stay for another week.

"No. I'm good. I was just showing Evangelina the horses. This one was my favorite," I answer, stepping away from the black horse and towards him. "He doesn't like most people. He kicked Landon in the face once."

Eric glances at the horse then back to me, smiling smugly.

"Smart guy."

I take his hand and carefully step over the mess to walk out the barn doors. He keeps his hand tightly in mine, his warm and mine cold, and he doesn't let go until we are near where the trucks are parked.

"Thank you," I tell him, swallowing down the urge to cry as my mother appears. She stands by the largest truck, talking with Karl as he shows her and Zander something. "Thank you for staying with me. For letting us be here. I don't think you'll ever know what it has meant to me."

Eric turns to me, his grey eyes intense and serious.

"I know you wanted your mother to be there when she was born. I'm glad it worked out the way you wanted, Everly. I just wanted you and Evangelina to be okay. Nothing else mattered to me."

He's making me want to cry, something I've found myself doing off and on over the past few days. My mother and Holly — the brand new medical expert — swore it was my hormones, which made me want to throw my teacup at their heads. I hate feeling weepy, but the mere sight of Eric and Evangelina together makes me overly emotional.

"I don't think her birth could have been any more perfect. Well, maybe, if there were some drugs involved." I squeeze his hand, turning when my mother approaches us. She looks bright-eyed and cheerful, lunging to hug us fiercely the minute she can.

"I'm going to miss you so much. All three of you," she whispers, holding on to me tightly. "Promise me you'll bring her back to visit. But soon, not when she's three or six. In a month or so. Please."

"I will. I promise you." I swallow, leaning in and closing my eyes. I let myself soak in every second, until she's the one to let go of us first. She steps back, observing my family carefully, and clasps her hands together in front of her.

"I know you'll take good care of her. And I know he'll," she pauses to throw a purposeful look at Eric, "take great care of the both of you."

He doesn't sneer at her or roll his eyes. Eric stays still, having made this promise long ago, maybe even that first day that he walked me to his apartment. He simply nods his head, then waves Karl over, the barest hint of a grin crossing his lips when my mother's attention turns to him.

"Karl, dear, are you sure you don't have time to stay and eat? I can make something for you to take back. It'll be long past dinner when you get back to Dauntless. I can pack up some sandwiches, maybe some of the oatmeal cookies I made…"

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Carlen. That's a really nice offer. But the last time I ate here, I, uh, wound up sleeping it off on your couch for eight hours. So, I'm afraid I'll have to decline today. But maybe next time." Karl grins at her, and I flash back to him devouring all the food she'd put in front of him, having no clue about the peace serum in it. "Actually, the cookies don't sound bad."

"Is everyone ready?" Eric asks, his tone quickly becoming bored and antsy. After nearly a week here, he must be more than ready to leave. He cocks his head to the side to look at the men swarming around, then back at the baby and me. "You ready to go? Anyone else you want to say goodbye to?"

"No, we're ready to be home." I grin up at him, truly excited to see Dauntless again.

I'd already said goodbye to Courtney and Sophia. They had come by yesterday, all bubbly and ecstatic and shrieking over how tiny and adorable Evangelina is. They loved her name, and I had to laugh when Sophia handed me a tiny flower crown they'd made themselves, along with a box of cupcakes. It felt bittersweet to say goodbye to them, sort of like this was the final time I'd see them, even though I knew it wouldn't be. Our paths would cross again, one way or another.

"Alright, everyone out!"

Eric yells suddenly, startling my mother. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, then she watches us walk to the trucks together. I walk around behind Eric, taking in every last image of Amity that I can as Eric opens the door for me, then carefully takes Evangelina to hold while I climb in. He hands her back, quietly informing me to buckle up, before stalking back around.

"I'll see you all soon!" my mother calls out, wiping at her eyes and pulling her flimsy shawl around her shoulders. "Keep me in the loop with everything she does! Let me know the minute she meets her future husband — I can't wait until Adam and Eve meet each other."

I fumble with the seatbelt, and when I look up, Eric is frozen in place with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the open door.

"What did she say?" he barks, and I notice his jaw has tensed, and he looks over at me sharply. "Did she say…"

"Adam and Eve. She said to let her know when they meet. She just gave her a nickname. She said it yesterday, and I thought it was cute!" I tell him brightly, noticing that he looks like he might throw up. "What's wrong, Eric? Why do you look so sweaty? Are you hot? Maybe you should take your jacket off."

"I'm fine. And it's not cute. Her name is Evangelina, not Eve," he hisses, and he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. "And she will never meet Adam. EVER."

He growls the last part and I stare at him, wondering if he's always been this dramatic or if this is just the first time I'm noticing it. I chalk it up to the excitement of the day, and I smile sweetly at him.

"She's going to love Adam. It'll be good for her to have a friend who lives next door. Maybe Tris will babysit so we can go out to dinner sometime by ourselves. We could do the same for them."

Eric swears loudly, so loudly that Evangelina wakes up, and shrieks in protest at her father's tantrum. I calm her down, but not before Eric takes off, completely forgetting Karl's still standing next to my mother talking about cookies and isn't in the truck. I forget, too, but only because I'm too busy pondering my sudden realization that since we arrived in Amity, my mother hasn't taken a single ounce of peace serum.

 

 

By the time we arrive back at Dauntless, it's nearly pitch black outside.

It seemed odd to be arriving as everyone was heading to bed, but I knew Eric had his reasons for the timing of our departure. The compound is nearly silent when the trucks pull in, and the guards wave us through without a second glance. Had they really looked in the trucks, they would have caught sight of me clutching the baby to my chest as Eric drove as carefully as possible. I'd been nervous to drive home with her, but he assured me he'd personally make sure we arrived home safely.

He parks the truck in the farthest area of Dauntless, near the generators and the receiving docks. He turns the truck off, and as I fumble with the seatbelt, I feel an overwhelming amount of relief to be home.

"I'll take her."

I'm so lost in my thoughts, daydreaming of our bed and our soft sheets, that I don't even realize Eric's waiting for me, my door already opened. He raises a pierced eyebrow at me and waits patiently until I carefully hand him Evangelina. He holds her against his chest then reaches up to help me step out, taking hold of my waist.

"Thanks, Eric." I take her back from him, glancing around quickly. It's dark and quiet, and the air is chilly and piercing. It feels so different from Amity; gone are the open spaces and the dirt paths, and in their place is the heavily armed building I'd come to know as my home. "Are you happy to be back?"

He grins at me, smirking as he guides me past the truck. He's as handsome as ever, illuminated by the faint moonlight and the flickering security lights. I walk alongside him easily, making sure the baby stays warm against me.

"I'm very happy to have you both home," he announces as we walk in through the farthest entrance; I've never paid too much attention, but this is the one that's the most out of the way and the least used. There are only a few men on post, and they greet us tiredly as we walk by. One does a double take, elbowing his partner as we walk past them and into the compound.

"Did they… wait! Is that the baby?"

His voice echoes in the rocky hallway. I hesitate as I step over the narrowest part of the path that leads us underground, and Eric's hand is immediately around my waist, pulling me against him. This hallway is beyond dark, the blue lanterns seeming dimmer and further apart than I remember, and he notices immediately.

"I'll have them turn the emergency lights on next time we're walking through here," he assures me, guiding me towards the elevators that flank the end of the hallway. I've never been more relieved to see the shiny doors than now. He briefly lets go of me to punch the button to call the elevator, and he glances down at the two of us. "It's a little dark in here."

I look up at him, finding humor in the fact that he just told me it's dark in here. It's been dark since the day I arrived, but I can see the concern brewing behind his eyes.

"I… uh, I'd hate for you guys to trip."

I grab hold of him with my free hand as we step into the elevator together. The doors shut silently, and I feel myself relax. The elevator ride is quiet and fast, and Evangelina barely makes a peep as we walk down the hallway to our apartment. I'm half tempted to knock on Tris and Four's door to stay hello, but I refrain, mostly because Eric hurries us past it.

"Do you have your key?" he asks, and I watch him fumble in his jacket pockets for his own. I shake my head, trying to remember the last time I'd seen it.

"I only have a key for the apartment one over," I tease, enjoying the way he pauses to look at me, trying not to laugh.

"Funny," he answers dryly, finally unlocking our door and holding it open. "Welcome home."

He waits for me to walk through first, and my eyes pop open as though I've never been in here before.

Our friends have certainly been busy.

Our apartment is full of all sorts of things that weren't here when I left: plenty of presents — though these are all perfectly wrapped up in dark paper — baby blankets, all kinds of baby décor taped to our walls, tiny baby shoes, dangerous-looking toys, black and blue balloons tied to our table and chairs, and a large banner that reads WELCOME BABY COULTER. It looks like we walked out right in the middle of our own party, except it was one we'd never attended.

"What on Earth?"

I look up at Eric and he shrugs.

"Christina wanted to throw you a baby shower. She worked really hard to plan one, but… well, I had to call Rylan and tell her you'd already had the baby. They were expecting us back a few days ago. So, they left everything set up. She said the cake is in the fridge and should be fine."

"Whoa." I stare at everything, totally in awe of what she's done. "You should have told me!"

"You wanted to stay in Amity. I couldn't exactly rush you home for a party when you wanted to spend the week with your mom. You wouldn't have wanted Evangelina around all those people, anyway."

"True," I agree, walking towards our bedroom. I want to stop and take everything in, but I also want to climb into our bed and sleep for the next week. "I'll look at all the stuff tomorrow. I'm going to get her ready for bed. You want to join us?"

Eric stares at me, his lips curling up into a grin, and he nods his head.

"Lead the way, Amity."

 

 

The knocking starts early.

Once I lift my head off of Eric's chest, I realize it's not actually that early. It's nearly ten, and all three of us have been out cold for much longer than I'd planned. I stare at Eric in the dark, squinting my eyes when he doesn't move, hoping that eventually the knocking will stop.

It doesn't.

"Eric," I whisper loudly, shoving him so he can get up and answer the door. I have zero interest in going out there, especially right now. But Eric doesn't wake up completely; he shoves me back, then turns over on his side, mumbles something, and resumes sleeping.

"You'll pay for this. I can still move apartments, you know." I try to sound threatening as I shove the covers back, glaring at both him and Evangelina. Neither of them seem to care. Both are sound asleep, not at all bothered by someone having a fit at our front door. I stand up grumpily, throw one of Eric's shirts over my nightgown, and head towards the living room. The banging increases until I open the door up to one very excited-looking Rylan.

"Hi, Everly. Where's Eric?" he greets me quickly, taking in my messed-up hair, the weird outfit I'm wearing, and the look on my face.

"Hi, Rylan. What are you doing here?" I rub my eyes for a second, noticing he looks downright determined, and he nearly leaps past me to step into the apartment.

"Did I wake you up? Sorry. Eric said to come over in the morning. He said you'd all be up," Rylan answers, glancing around our apartment. His gaze finally stops at our bedroom door, and he frowns. "Is Eric still asleep?"

"Yeah, they both are." I yawn. "Do you want me to wake him up?"

Rylan shakes his head, which is a good thing considering Eric is dead to the world. "He said I could come over and see him. As the first and most important godfather, I wanted to make sure I saw the baby before anyone else did. I'd like to introduce myself."

I stare at him, slowly realizing that he's oddly dressed up. Not anything crazy, but far more formal than the uniform or the casual jeans and t-shirts I'd seen him in. His hair is combed neatly, and he's standing up very straight. For a second, we look at each other, and I realize that despite waking us up out of a dead sleep, his actions are really very sweet.

"You know what? You're right. I'll be right back. I'm going to get the baby. Are you sure you don't want me to wake Eric up?"

Rylan smiles brightly, shaking his head no.

"Nah, he can sleep, I see him all the time. Plus, I'll fill him in later."

"Alright. You can sit on the couch if you'd like. I'll make us some coffee, too." I grin as I walk away, heading towards my bedroom. The apartment is quiet, and I open up the bedroom door wider. I wonder if either of them have woken up, but both Eric and Evangelina are in the same spot, both snoring, and she still doesn't wake when I pick her up.

"Hi, baby!" I tell her, hoping maybe she'll open her eyes up a bit. I decide to quickly change her, and she finally opens one eye to scowl at her sleep being interrupted. "You could wake up for a few minutes, you know. Someone's here to meet you."

Evangelina is not impressed.

She scrunches her eyes shut and goes right back to sleep as I carry her out.

"Hey, I was thinking, maybe we can all get dinner next week. Christina and I were talking and…" Rylan turns his head at me, and his eyes widen. "What on Earth is he wearing?"

"She's wearing pajamas," I answer brightly, smiling at the expression on his face. "She's not a boy. I'm assuming Eric didn't tell you the ultrasound tech was wrong."

"No, he didn't," Rylan answers, his eyes glued to the baby in my arms. I hold her out to him, and he freezes. "I was prepared to meet my godson, but…" He trails off as he takes her very slowly, and holds her out in front of him like some sort of sacrifice.

"She won't bite you. She's mad that I woke her up, so she'll probably stay asleep."

Rylan nods in understanding of the importance of sleep, and he eyes her critically. "What's her name?"

"Evangelina." I relax when he finally eases up, moving her closer to his chest and settling back against the couch. I wander into the kitchen, still feeling half asleep as I fumble to find the coffee. I scowl when I remember all we have left is decaf, but it'll work. "Eric named her. My brother called her Eva. My mom called her Eve and Eric nearly lost his mind."

"I like it," Rylan informs me, and I glance over at him. "It's a pretty name, and she's a really pretty baby. She looks a lot like you and not a lot like Eric, which is good. I was worried she'd inherit his hairline."

I try not to snort as I add water to the coffee maker.

"Thank you. I think she's pretty cute myself." I push the button, grateful that Eric had the foresight to want a fancy coffee maker that was easy to use. "I'm surprised he didn't call and tell you."

"Well, he did call," Rylan answers, shrugging very carefully. "He just said you guys were coming home and to come by whenever. But he didn't go into any details. He sounded tired."

"I'm sure he is." I bring two mugs back from the kitchen with me, taking a seat by Rylan. "I know he was expecting her to be a boy. I thought she was a boy, too. I felt really stupid when my mother brought her in with this giant pink bow on her head."

"Did, uh, how did Eric take you giving birth in Amity?" Rylan snickers, then he looks at me as I set the coffee down on the table. "Everyone thinks it's pretty badass that you had the baby there. We heard they don't have any drugs in Amity, only peace serum, and everyone knew you weren't going to take that."

"Thanks. It's true, I didn't take any peace serum. There was no time. But, Eric took the situation surprisingly well." I grin back. "I mean, I'm sure he would have preferred for her to have been born in Erudite. But once he saw she was healthy and just fine, he was okay with it. Daniel was a little harder to convince. He wanted us to go back to Erudite with him, but I wanted to come home to Dauntless. I didn't want to spend all that time going from faction to faction with her."

Rylan nods his head, very gently touching Eva's head and smiling down at her. He looks content for someone who was awkwardly holding her in the air moments ago.

"I appreciate Daniel's thinking. Neither of them want her to get sick, but she's perfectly healthy. My mom and her… staff, friends, I don't know what you'd call them. Assistants? They checked her out while I caught up on some sleep. We could have come home the next day, but I wanted to stay there. Daniel showed up once Eric called him, and he brought half the hospital with him. It was a little overwhelming."

"Yeah, I get that. Daniel's a good guy. He wouldn't want anything to happen to either of you. He was probably thinking Amity was… really dirty." Rylan stops, and when he looks at me, he looks guilty. "Wait, that sounded wrong. I meant—"

"It is really dirty," I reassure him, not at all insulted. "The walkways are dirt, the fields are dirt, the office sits atop a field of dirt. It's certainly no Erudite hospital. But she was born at my mom's house, not out in the fields or anything."

"Now that might have pushed Eric over the edge." Rylan laughs and shifts her closer to his chest. "You guys did good. I like her. I wish she'd wake up so she can see me, but I can always come back."

"Sure, anytime." I watch the two of them together, happy that she's got another person in Dauntless looking out for her. Rylan seems thrilled that he got to meet her, and I'm sure he'd be even more thrilled to know he's the first of our friends to come by.

"I can come back this afternoon. She'll wake up by then, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm sure she'll wake up by this afternoon." I'm a little surprised he'd want to come back so soon, but I don't mind. "Eric should be up by then, too."

Rylan stares down at her, adjusting her in his arm that's probably gone numb, and he's rewarded with her opening up her eyes.

"Hey! She's up!" Rylan announces gleefully, and he holds her up closer to him, making sure she's paying attention. "This is important little Evangelina Coulter, so don't forget this. I am the number one godfather. Numero Uno. Karl is no one. Wait, well, he's not no one. He's actually a fairly decent guy. But I'm the one you'll come to when you need to be bailed out of something that your father would kill you for. Like, the cool godfather. If you need help with math, you can go see your godfather Karl. He can help you with the boring stuff."

"What about Christian?" I tease, and Rylan looks up to roll his eyes.

"Fine. You need some bedazzled boots, you go see your godfather Christian. Everything else, you come see me. I got your back."

Eva appears to be listening as she stretches, wrinkling her nose when he leans in towards her, and she finally narrows her little eyes at him.

"There it is. She looked just like Eric there. He made that same face when Harrison announced he was retiring."

"He is?" I ask in surprise, and Rylan nods enthusiastically.

"He said he wants to get back out in the field or something. He's going to officially step down, but work part time so he doesn't die of boredom. But out of the office. Something about fresh air and no one stealing his stapler."

"Sounds thrilling." I yawn, trying to remember the last time I'd even seen Harrison. "Good for him."

"Now if we could only get Max to follow in his footsteps." Rylan shrugs, and his expression darkens when his phone rings. "Goddamnit, I told Max I'd be back after lunch. I told him not to call me."

He awkwardly tries to get his phone, struggling to hold the baby, so I help him out by taking her back. She immediately gazes up at me with this look that tells me she wants breakfast, and Rylan fumbles with his phone.

"Sorry to cut our visit short, but I've got to head back in. Max deleted his hard drive and my performance review is on there. All of ours are." He closes his eyes and sighs heavily. "Congratulations on the baby. She's perfect. Tell Eric I'll call him later."

"I will. Thanks for coming by," I tell him, standing up as Evangelina starts to get cranky. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, I'll be back this afternoon. Bye Everly, bye Evangelina Coulter."

He's gone in a rush, letting himself out as he loudly swears at Max. I catch sight of Evangelina's grumpy face, relieved that I don't have to worry about anything to do with hard drives or performance reviews for a while.

"Rylan's a good guy," I tell her, walking us back to the bedroom. She doesn't seem to disagree, but she scrunches her face up and turns red. I walk us back to the bed where Eric is still sound asleep in the same spot, having slept through his friend's visit. I sit down beside him, shrugging his shirt off and leaning back.

Eva makes a tiny noise as the two of us settle back against the pillows, preparing to fall back asleep the moment she's done nursing.

It's only then that Eric wakes up, his hearing suddenly kicking in as he sits up abruptly, blinking in confusion.

"Is she okay? I heard her crying."

I stare at him, shaking my head and trying hard not to laugh.

"She's fine, go back to sleep. She just wants to eat." I pull her against my chest, watching as Eric blinks a few times. He shrugs, and I swear he's back asleep before I can say another word.

"Maybe we should have his hearing checked," I joke, and he grunts from beside me.

"I heard that," he mumbles, slinging one arm over the two of us.

I reach over towards him once I've got Eva situated, and I let my fingers trail through his hair. He stays totally still, then he nudges his head towards me, urging me on. I twist his hair around my fingers, the short strands cut just before we left for Amity, and he falls back asleep, drifting off to my hand in his hair.

 

 

 

I spend the next week in a sleepy, happy blur.

I had half expected being home with a newborn to be even more painful than Eric's training had been. The similarities were certain to be there: sleep deprivation — with endless, sleepless nights that left me exhausted — and someone was bound to end up crying. There wouldn't be any cake, I wouldn't have enough blankets, and Eric would shove dozens of books in my face, all while watching me with an intense expression.

But it wound up being a lot easier than I'd expected. I quickly realized that Evangelina woke up every three hours to eat, never once varying from her routine. She liked to wake up at the same time every morning; she must be taking after Eric in that respect. And while I'd been worried I'd feel like a zombie as the days went on, I was surprised to find that I felt like that just a tiny bit. Coffee helped. Napping when she slept helped even more. I also found it easy to spend hours with her, just watching and existing with her and Eric. She was worth feeling tired for, because even though she was barely two weeks old, I couldn't remember a time when she wasn't part of our family.

Eric and I had never been incomplete. He had filled something in my life that I'd always wanted — someone to simply support and love me for me. In turn, I did the same for him. I knew the Eric that was loyal and protective; I saw a side of him that no one else did. Together, we've had a happy existence in Dauntless. It's been just him and me, and that was all I'd needed.

But Evangelina is the perfect addition. She's managed to fit in easily, content to sit with us — preferably on Eric — while we watched a movie. She hated the one with the vampires and the werewolves, but she stayed awake through an entire series about lords and ladies fighting over seven kingdoms. She and I spent plenty of time together, eating and sleeping before dozing off on Eric.

It felt picture perfect.

Which of course meant that a week later, I was dreading the moment that Eric would go back to work, for no reason other than I didn't want him to. I liked having him home. I was worried he'd go back immediately after returning from Amity. I feared he might grow tired of us, both vying to lie against him, though Evangelina often won out because she cried and I didn't. I found myself needing to be close to him, but luckily, he felt the same way. The three of us fell asleep each night, tangled in our bed one way or another. I was terrified he'd crush her while he slept, but I was also terrified she'd stop breathing if she slept in her own crib.

I compromised by putting her in a bassinet next to us, even though I knew she preferred to be right beside us.

After a few days of sleeping there, she seemed to catch on that I got to sleep warm and curled up against Eric and she didn't. She protested by waking up every hour despite her preference to sleep. I blearily opened my eyes within mere seconds of closing them, discovering her tiny screams were ear piercing. It was then that I waited for Eric to lose all patience with her and me. She would scream until I picked her up, she'd fall back asleep in my arms and I'd lay her back down, and forty-five minutes later, she'd scream again. She'd been doing this little trick since nine pm, and at two am, it was losing its cuteness.

At three, I sit up, feeling like the walking dead, but I discover she's no longer shrieking like I swore she was.

"Eric?" I mumble, squinting to focus in the near-total darkness, wondering if I'm dreaming. I reach for him, and I realize he's got her on his chest, one hand on her back and the other extended towards me.

"Lie down, Everly. I got her."

I hesitate for a second, only because she looks miniscule on his bare chest. But she's no longer crying, she's fast asleep, one teeny little fist resting against the blocks on his throat, and one very smug look on her face.

"You don't have to do it all by yourself. I'll wake up if she cries," he mutters the words tiredly, stretching his arm out for me. "Come here."

I forget all my fears as I collapse into his chest, dying a slow and pleasant death when he wraps his arm around me. I fall asleep immediately, and none of us wake up until late the next morning.

The days pass so quickly, I wish I could slow them down.

I ignore a lot of text messages and phone calls. They stack up on my phone, along with emails and other alerts, but I try to reply to a few of the more important ones. I decide that the rest, mostly happy requests to see the baby, can wait until later. I spend a good hour sitting on the bed with the baby, messing with my phone and ignoring the alerts until I learn how to take the best photos of her. I'm delighted when they turn out well, capturing her dark hair and light eyes, and I immediately send a few to Eric, despite him being in the next room.

Having Eric home has been fantastic for a few reasons, not least because it has meant that I got to spend time slowly returning to normal. I could shower and brush my hair for as long as I pleased, I could nap when she slept, and I never worried that I had to make myself dinner because Eric took care of it. He did take a few phone calls, and he occasionally opened up his laptop, but I didn't mind. He was there, pressed against me on the couch, and all was good.

We fell into a routine, and I found it easier and easier as each day passed. I was starting to look and feel like Everly again. On Monday, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair, preparing to see Tris and Christina. They'd both asked to stop by, but up until now, I'd been too caught up in Eric and Evangelina to have anyone visit except for Rylan. I was also guilty of not wanting to share her with anyone other than Eric. But today, I feel good. I'm happy and rested, I look as close to normal as I can, and I had thrown on one of my favorite dresses. Eric was heading into the office for a few hours, but my friends were coming over, and I had a feeling it was the perfect way to gently ease back into things.

That feeling lasted up until the moment Eric was about to leave.

Evangelina was sound asleep on our bed, and I wandered out to say goodbye to him. The sight of Eric leaving, dressed in a dark shirt and dark pants, was enough that I unexpectedly felt like he was never coming back. I had to calm myself down, mentally pointing out that his office was a floor away, he had a phone I could call, and he'd be back before I knew it.

"Do you need anything before I leave?" Eric looks up from his watch, frowning for a second. "I made sure Quinten is bringing you girls some lunch. I didn't want you to have to head down to that place where the rest of the peons eat."

"That's really nice of you. I think I'm good. But I can't remember when you said you'll be home?" I ask casually, pretty sure he said he'd be gone for an hour or so. It was nearly eleven now, so by two he should be waltzing back in through the door, thrilled to see me and our child.

"My last meeting goes until three. I'm meeting with Max after that, then Four is giving some presentation on factional safety that he came up with and is dying to share. It starts at four-thirty and hopefully will end at four forty-five. So, maybe five. Five-thirty?" He rolls his eyes in disgust, and he reaches out to touch my hair.

"Oh," I answer, staring at the clock on the stove and wondering it it's correct or if I got it wrong the first time. To my dismay, it's still not even eleven.

"You okay? You want me to come home earlier?"

He studies me intently. I'm sure the look on my face is surprise, but I don't want to admit that I do want him to come home earlier. Or not leave at all. I know that eventually, he has to return to work, and eventually, so will I. So, I smile and shake my head, pretending that six hours without him will be just fine.

"I'll miss you, but you can fill me in on all the fun stuff that happens. I bet Four's presentation will be amazing and eye-opening. He's probably thought of all sorts of things that need to be fixed since Adam was born," I tease, stepping forward and rising up on my toes so I can kiss him goodbye. I loop my arms around his neck, and his hands come to rest on my lower back.

"Don't be too jealous," he answers. "But, I could always video conference you in if you'd really like to hear Four's plans to babyproof the compound."

I laugh, staring up at him and the pained expression on his face.

"That's such a sweet offer, but I'll have to pass. I don't think Tris and Christina will want to watch that." I grin widely, beyond happy when he bends down to kiss me.

Since the birth of our daughter, Eric had been excessively careful in how he touched the both of us. For a man who once sneered at me that he couldn't be gentle, he was proving himself wrong left and right. He'd helped me give her a bath the other night, carefully cradling her while I washed her hair, the two of us standing there and gaping at her as she seemingly gave us a tiny smile. Ever since her birth, he'd been so restrained when it came to either of us, like he was afraid to ruin what he had. It was disgustingly sweet and heartbreakingly romantic that he was acting this way. But it also meant that he'd been overly kind when he kissed me, almosthorrifyingly polite.

I knew what was going on.

Because I felt the same way. He knew that if he let himself linger too long, or his hands wandered too low, I'd kill him when he stopped. I hadn't even seen a doctor for any sort of follow up, and half the time I felt like all I did was nurse the baby and sleep, but I was still Everly. I had watched him get dressed, the act of him buttoning up his shirt somehow hotter than if he was taking it off. I'd caught sight of him stepping out of the shower. I'd watched him brush his teeth, barefoot and in his boxers, and I'd nearly jumped on him right then and there.

I was even willing to risk going blind by leaping onto him in the shower and asking him to wash my hair again.

He must sense my frustration, because out of nowhere, he kisses me hard, grasping me tightly and refusing to stop. I ignore the burning feeling in my lungs and the ache in my chest, and I kiss him back fiercely until I'm forced to break away. I give myself two seconds to recover, then I kiss him again, unwilling to do anything else.

"Everly," he murmurs, and I swear this feels like the first time I've ever kissed him. I try hard to calm my breathing, the frantic beating of my heart refusing to slow down as he leans in. "Everly, I have to stop this. I should go…"

He trails off to kiss my neck, and I sigh pleasantly at my victory. I could stay right here forever; one of his hands snaking up and into my hair, the other bunching up the fabric of my dress as he works to sink his teeth into my neck. I groan when he pulls me closer to him, quickly trying to calculate for how long Evangelina would stay asleep. I pull his head back to mine, kissing him frantically, my hands in his hair now, ruining the impeccable part.

"Everly," he groans, his hips pushing into mine. "You'd better tell me to stop."

I keep celebrating, especially when he backs me up against the counter, fumbling with the strap of my sundress.

"Eric, we should…"

I barely get the words out of my mouth before someone knocks, and my head turns so quickly I can hear my spine crack.

"Who is that?" I demand, my voice sounding way higher than it should. "Is that…is it Max? You said your meeting wasn't until eleven!"

"I don't think it's Max," Eric answers, untangling himself from me. He takes a second to close his eyes, then he adjusts the collar of his shirt. "But whoever it is, they're dead."

"Don't answer it," I implore him, but deep down, I know he has to.

He smirks at my desperation as he steps away to stalk over to the door, throwing it open with a look of utter hatred on his face. He greets whoever it is so nastily that even I take a step back, and my heart goes out to the poor person and their terrible timing.

That feeling goes away the second Four steps through our front door, with an equally exasperated look on his face.

"I'm not sure what's wrong, but you said to meet you here and we'd walk there together. You wanted to see my agenda before we got there, remember?" he reminds Eric, looking back at me and forcing an expression that's less of a grimace. "Hey, Everly. Tris will be over soon. She's getting Adam ready."

"Hi, Four. And good, I can't wait," I cheerfully greet him, and I catch Eric's sneer behind Four's head. "I'm sure Adam and..."

"Evangelina," Eric interjects. "Adam and Evangelina. They'll have a blast. She'll sleep and he'll sleep. Far away from each other."

Four smiles tightly, and I can't tell if he's aware that he just interrupted us at the wrong time, or if he's thinking about Eric's declaration that his baby is to come nowhere near ours.

"He… uh, I'm sure you girls will have fun. Tris is looking forward to it." He shoves his hands in his pockets while Eric watches him like a hawk. It would be comical, except for the fact that Eric is leaving with him. He cocks an eyebrow at me, and I sadly wave goodbye, still pressed up against the counter. I watch him head out, the back of his hair messed up and his shirt collar still askew.

I glance at the clock, realizing it's only 10:58, and we still have two minutes.

"Eric, wait! I wouldn't have told you to stop. Just so you know. She's gonna sleep for at least another hour!"

I call out after him, but he's already shut the door, and I cross my arms over my chest, silently cursing Four.

 

 

Tris is thrilled.

Mostly because Adam, dressed in a cute little black outfit, is fascinated by Evangelina. Despite the fact that Eric warned me multiple times to keep Adam far away from her, Adam's entire attention is focused on her, and he keeps turning to look in her direction.

"She's beautiful."

Tris holds her carefully, Evangelina's adorable pink dress perfect for our suddenly warm apartment. Upon arriving home to a freezing apartment, Eric had the sudden and bizarre urge to flip the switch for our heat from off to on. I stood there watching, with the sinking feeling the heat wouldn't even work after Eric had chosen to leave it off for two years in a subtle attempt to keep me in bed with him, but to my surprise, it did. I was beyond happy that it suddenly felt tropically warm in here, because that meant none of us needed sweaters.

"She has so much hair, and she has big eyes, and her outfit is so cute, and she looks just like you!" The words fly out of Tris's mouth as she sits next to Christina. Next to her, Christina is holding Adam, trying to get him to look at her. But he's busy squirming and attempting to turn towards Evangelina. It's sort of hilarious, and I have the feeling Eric would lose his mind if he could see what was going on.

Despite being content with Tris holding her, Evangelina occasionally looks over at Adam, then back to Tris, then back to Adam. She had woken up when they arrived, but she wasn't happy about it. So far, she's tried to go back to sleep a few times, but it appears that Adam is far more interesting than napping.

"What does Eric think? Tris asks, eventually lifting her gaze away from the baby and onto me. "Does he just adore her?"

"He's really happy," I answer, tucking my feet beneath me and patiently waiting for Quinten to text me that he's on the way with lunch. "He was definitely thrown off that she wasn't a boy, because that's what they told him. But it didn't take him long to get over it. He's really good with her, and she even seems to prefer him half the time."

"Well, duh," Christina chimes in, bouncing Adam gently in an attempt to focus his attention on her. It fails when he protests, and undeterred, she holds him up in front of her and makes a face at him. "She's adorable. There's no way you couldn't love her. Eric's going to be a beast when she's older. Like, in two or three years."

I have to say I agree.

"I'm sure. He was already concerned with how close Adam would sit next to her."

Tris snickers until Adam starts to cry, turning red until Christina stops bouncing him and faces him towards Evangelina. "He's in for a rough time. I'd say they already like each other."

She's right; Evangelina is staring at Adam, though I can't be sure she can even really make him out one lap over. Adam has stopped crying, and the two of them yawn at the same time.

"I think they're both tired," Christina points out, having given up on getting any attention from Adam. "I was thinking they'd be awake more and want to play, but it seems like all they do is sleep."

"That's pretty accurate," Tris tells her, brushing Evangelina's hair to the side. "I can't say that I mind. It's when I get all my stuff done."

"I'd hire a maid and take a nap." Christina rolls her eyes, but then her face lights up. "But if you guys ever need some time away, Rylan and I can babysit. In fact, we could watch both of them at the same time. You could all go out!"

"That, uh, sounds really nice," Tris responds politely, though I can see the speck of terror in her eye at the thought of leaving her child alone with Christina for hours. "I don't think I'm quite ready to leave Adam just yet. And, uh, does Rylan want kids? Or even like kids?"

"He said that for now, he's happy being a godfather. He seems to think there's some major honor in that. He nearly lost his mind when he heard Evangelina was born in Amity. I think he was planning on being there as part of his godparent duties."

"Now that would have been entertaining," I answer offhandedly, my gaze on my phone. I'm reading a message from Quinten telling me he's one minute away, and one from Eric telling me his meeting is boring as fuck. I type back I'm sorry, then I look up as someone knocks on the door.

"Lunch is here!" I tell them, far too enthused to sit here and eat with my friends. "I'm going to lay Evangelina down for a nap. Do you think Adam wants to lie down, too?"

"Sure," Tris answers. "But where should I put him?"

"Well," I stand up from the couch, and I glance at Evangelina's bedroom. I could have her sleep in her bassinet, but she hates it, and I know she'll shriek in hopes that Eric will come rescue her. "I'm going to put her in her crib. Just put Adam next to her. I'm sure they'll be fine. Evangelina prefers to sleep by someone anyway. She hates sleeping alone."

"Okay," Tris agrees easily, much to my surprise. "I'll follow you. Chris, can you get the door?"

"Sure." Christina waits while I head over to pick up Evangelina, and then Tris takes Adam back from her. Christina rises to let Quinten in, and Tris follows me into the bedroom.

"It's cute in here."

Tris glances around the dimly lit room, taking in all the decorations. Eric's old stuffed dog is on the dresser, beneath the sophisticated baby artwork Eric had picked out, along with the fancy crib sheets he'd selected.

"Eric decorated it. He has surprisingly nice taste. He and his friends got everything put together, and one day I woke up to a fully decorated room," I tell her as I lay Evangelina down in the crib. She turns when Tris lays Adam down a bit further away, blinking at her friend in her crib.

"They look super cute, but your husband would kill us if he saw this."

Tris whispers the words as she comes to stand next to me, and I nod my head and try not to crack up.

She's right.

He'd absolutely lose his mind if he could see the way Evangelina flings one arm out towards Adam, and he flings one arm out towards her. Content next to each other, both of them close their eyes, and I swear they're asleep before I can turn off the nightlight. I take a final look at them, her tiny self happily asleep next to Adam.

It gets even better when I check on them an hour later and catch sight of her little hand touching his.


End file.
